Glowing Bones
by hellogoodbye57
Summary: The third story in my series. The Jeffersonian has a mysterious set of remains pulled from the bay. Meanwhile, Booth and Brennan's relationship continues to develop. Plenty of Parker also thrown in, too. The rating is only for a small part of Chapter 3.
1. Chapter 1

Brennan was pacing her bedroom trying to calm Aaron. She had discovered early on that he liked singing, but she only knew a few songs, most of which were not very soothing. She had meant to buy a CD of lullabies, but she simply had the time. Though the social worker had insisted that she take a week off of work to bond with the baby. Brennan found that taking care of Aaron was a full-time job. He woke at odd hours of the night, so Brennan usually only slept in two or three hour stretches. Booth had offered to spend the night at her apartment to help her out, but she had refused, claiming that he needed his rest since he was still working. Of course, her refusal to allow him to spend the night did not stop him from coming over every night. Although she would never admit it, she liked having him with her.

At that moment, she heard the front door open. "How's it going, Bones?" Booth called. Before she could answer, she heard a loud crash followed by a stream of curses.

"Are you okay?" Brennan walked out of the bedroom and found him beside the playpen she had set up, staring down at his right foot.

"I'm fine," he assured her, weaving through the maze of furniture and toys in her living room. "You need a bigger apartment though." He reached her side and kissed her.

"I know. I didn't think a baby would require so much stuff."

"I understand. You want me to help look?"

"I've been looking, but I can't really find much." Brennan shifted Aaron to her other shoulder. He had stopped crying, but he was still whimpering pitifully.

"I'll take him," Booth said, holding out his arms.

"It's okay. I've got him."

"Give him to me, Bones." Gratefully, Brennan handed the baby to Booth. He held Aaron in front of him and asked, "How's my favorite four-month-old?" Aaron grinned happily, his tears forgotten, and Booth leaned forward to blow a raspberry on his stomach, making the baby squirm with delight.

"How do you do that?" Brennan inquired.

"Do what?" Booth settled the baby against his shoulder, and the baby immediately reached for the collar of his shirt.

"Get him to stop crying so quickly."

Booth shrugged. "I'm talented. Now, let's get some dinner and take a look at those apartments you've picked out."

Brennan made a pasta dish that Booth did not recognize but which tasted wonderful. As they ate, Booth bounced Aaron on his knee and scanned the apartments Brennan had circled. "These all have three bedrooms," he noticed as he looked at the five descriptions.

"I know," Brennan said. He looked at her, waiting for her explanation, and she let her eyes fall to her plate. "I just thought that if you came over and you had Parker. . . well, I would need three bedrooms. It seemed logical."

Booth stared at her, unable to speak. She had thought of him and his son when picking out her apartment. She considered them a large enough part of her life to include them in her plans. Booth had known Brennan long enough to realize that this inclusion was a rare occurrence. Her life was her life. She did not let others into it.

Brennan was still staring at her plate, wishing she had thought of some other reason to have the third bedroom. They had only been dating three weeks; there was no reason to consider Booth in her plans. In all of her previous relationships, she had never considered her lover when making an important life decisions. It was her life. She should make decisions based on how they would affect her and not someone else. But it nevertheless felt completely natural to include Booth in her plans. He was different than her previous lovers. She had let her guard down, allowed herself to fall in love with him, and he had become an important part of her life.

Brennan suddenly felt his fingers beneath her chin. He pushed her head up, forcing her to look at him. He now stood beside her chair, still holding Aaron in one arm. He saw the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, and he knelt beside her, still cupping her chin in his hand. "Thank you, Temperance," he said. Leaning forward, he kissed her, promising with his lips that he would never leave her. When he pulled away, he said, "I love you, Temperance. Forever."

"I love you, too, Seeley. Forever." Brennan had never considered forever before. Her longest relationship had lasted for seven months, and she did not expect any other one to last longer. After all, few animals mated for life. But she could not help but imagine growing old with Booth. It was simultaneously frightening and comforting.

After another heated kiss which only ended when Aaron began to cry, Brennan began to clean up the dishes as Booth fixed Aaron's bottle. Booth had visited Brennan's apartment enough to grow comfortable in her kitchen. He found the formula and bottles quickly and placed the milk in the microwave. As it heated, he was suddenly struck by the domesticity of the scene. He could certainly grow used to it.

They settled down on the couch together after the dishes had all been put away. Booth had transferred Aaron to Brennan who held him in her lap, feeding him. Booth pulled out the newspaper that Brennan had been searching through earlier and flipped past the apartments. "We've both looked through there, Booth," Brennan told him. "There's nothing else."

"I'm not looking at apartments."

Brennan glanced over his shoulder. "Houses? I don't think so. I'm definitely an apartment person. I don't want to worry about keeping up a whole house."

"Hire a maid."

"What about fixing things?"

"I can do that."

"Booth, a house is just too. . . permanent."

"Bones, you have Aaron now. It's time to find something a bit more permanent." He scanned the page before pointing to a mid-sized, four bedroom house. "This one looks nice. It's in a good school district and has a yard."

"I don't need four bedrooms."

"What if you have guests?"

"Who?"

"I don't know. Maybe Angela."

"It's a waste of space."

"But it has a better price than a lot of the three bedroom homes. I'm circling it. We should look at it tomorrow."

"When did I agree to look at houses tomorrow?"

"Do you have something else to do?"

"I have another chapter to finish."

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"Who's Jack?"

"Never mind. Look, I get Parker tomorrow, and you promised him you'd spend the day with him. I think we should at least look at a couple houses with him. Get his opinion."

"You have Parker again? Don't you usually get him every other weekend?"

"Most of the time. But when Rebecca starts dating someone new, she likes to leave her weekends free. I'm not complaining though. I take whatever time I can get with Parker."

Booth slept over at Brennan's house that night. When Aaron woke up at 2:00 in the morning, he switched off the monitor before it could wake her and padded softly to the living room where Brennan had set up the crib. "Let's not wake Mommy," Booth said, too tired to correct his slip of the tongue. Aaron seemed to understand, however; he quieted immediately. "Good boy."

Brennan found Booth asleep on the recliner the next morning with Aaron snoozing on his chest. Unable to resist, she reentered her bedroom and emerged with the digital camera, snapping a picture of the scene. Though not usually prone to sentimentality, Brennan had found herself allowing her actions to be guided by her emotions more and more often since she had met Booth.

Deciding to make some breakfast, she went into the kitchen and pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. As she reached for a bowl, she felt two strong arms grab her waist. "Good morning, beautiful," Booth whispered, kissing her neck. Brennan turned so she could kiss him properly.

"Where's Aaron?" she questioned when they pulled apart.

"He's still asleep. I put him in his crib."

"I didn't hear him wake up last night."

"I turned the monitor off. There was no point in both of us getting up. Whatcha cooking?"

"Scrambled eggs and toast."

"That sounds good. I'll be back in a bit. I'm just going to grab a change of clothes out of my car." Brennan nodded and turned back to her cooking as he left.

All three left together to pick up Parker. When Booth stopped outside Rebecca's house, Brennan and Aaron stayed in the car while he walked up to pick up Parker. Before Booth had made it halfway up the driveway, the front door opened and a small, blond figure raced out. Parker threw himself into his father's arms, and Booth lifted him off the ground, hugging him tightly. "I missed you, Daddy," Parker said.

"I missed you, too, Bub," Booth told his son.

"Are we going to see Dr. Bones?"

"She's waiting in the car. There's also someone else we'd like you to meet." Booth carried Parker to the car and set him down beside Brennan who was leaning against the passenger side door.

"Dr. Bones!" Parker gave Brennan a hug as she knelt beside him. "I've missed you," he told her.

"Me, too, Parker."

"Are you ready to meet the person I told you about?" Booth asked. Parker nodded, and Booth opened the door of the car, revealing Aaron who stared at the three curiously from his car seat. "This is Aaron," Booth introduced, picking Parker up and standing him next to the seat so he would have a clear view of the baby.

"Are you and Dr. Bones his Mommy and Daddy?" Parker inquired.

Booth bit back his laughter. "No, bub."

"Oh. Then where are his Mommy and Daddy?"

"They couldn't take care of him anymore, so Bones and I are going to look after him for a little while."

"How long is that?"

"Until they find a family who wants him."

"Can I touch him?"

"Sure. Just be careful." Parker reached out to touch the baby's small fist, and Aaron yawned. Giggling, Parker started to extract his hand, and Booth noticed something purple just below his wrist that had previously been covered by his sleeve. "What's that?" Booth questioned.

Parker looked down at the arm. "I was. . . playing soccer and I fell," Parker said without meeting Booth's eyes.

"Are you lying to me, Bub?"

"No, Daddy." Booth could tell he was, but he decided not to press the issue. He would have time to properly question Parker later.

"So, what do you think of looking at houses today?" Booth questioned.

"Why are we lookin' at houses?"

"Bones is thinking of buying a house. I thought we'd help her find a good one."

Parker considered for a moment. "Okay."

"Let's get you buckled in so we can go, Bub."

They stopped first at the house that Brennan had picked out. It was a small, three-bedroom structure with a tiny front yard. The top half of the façade was made of wood which looked as if it had been painted recently, but he bottom was covered with stones that had weathered with age. Booth parked in the street and opened the back door to help Parker out of his booster seat. As soon as the small boy was free, Parker walked around so he could take Brennan's hand. Brennan's eyes met Booth's, and he shrugged, taking Aaron's car seat so she could focus on Parker. As they walked up the short driveway, Parker babbled on excitedly about the new class pet at his preschool, a brown rabbit the kids had christened "Hopper."

Brennan rang the doorbell, still nodding as Parker continued his story. A short, bony woman with shoulder-length blond hair answered after a few seconds. She smiled when she saw Brennan, flashing a set of perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth. "You must be Dr. Brennan," she said, extending a soft, manicured hand. "I'm Laura Weatherby." Brennan shook her hand firmly, and Laura looked at the other three, obviously waiting for introductions. Knowing that Brennan was woefully ignorant of social etiquette, Booth spoke up.

"I'm Seeley Booth, and this is Aaron and Parker," he introduced, nodding to the two boys. The woman's smile widened.

"Come on in. Let me show you around."

As the woman gave them a tour of the house, Booth only half-listened to what she was saying. He watched Brennan closely, noticing how she studied her surroundings just as she would study a set of remains. She had the cool, calculating look in her eyes that he had come to recognize. It usually indicated that she was absorbing every detail and making connections that only she could make. Booth had learned to simply let her be once her eyes took on that look. She would usually come to him a few minutes later with a brilliant deduction that would solve the case.

"So, what did you think, Bones?" Booth asked as they walked back to the car.

"I think it's okay, but it had a really small backyard," Parker piped up before Brennan could answer.

"It was smaller than I expected," Brennan said. "The rooms all seemed somewhat cluttered. I think that I would prefer something more open."

"I agree with you there, Bones. On to option B."

Brennan liked the second house less than the first, and they only stayed for a few minutes before making a polite exit. As they pulled up in front of the third house, Booth immediately felt that they had found what they were searching for. It was a good deal larger than the first two houses they had seen with a large, well-maintained front lawn. This time, Booth took Parker and Brennan carried Aaron as they walked up the cobblestone pathway that led to the intricately patterned glass front door. Booth could tell Parker was starting to grow bored, and he was glad that this house was their last stop for the day.

A real estate agent opened the door before Booth could reach for the bell. "Mr. and Mrs. Booth," she said, smiling broadly as she held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"We're not-" Brennan began, but Booth interrupted.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mrs. Jacobi," he said, taking the offered hand.

"And who are these beautiful boys?"

"Boys aren't beautiful. That's girly," Parker objected.

Booth laughed. "This is Parker and Aaron."

"It's nice to meet you guys." Mrs. Jacobi knelt in front of Parker. "There are some cookies in the kitchen if your parents will let you have one." Parker looked up at Booth eagerly.

"Can I, Daddy, please?"

"Only one," Booth told him. "We'll have lunch soon."

"They're right that way." Mrs. Jacobi pointed, and Parker eagerly ran off. Standing up, Mrs. Jacobi said, "You two are welcome to them, too, if you want."

"I'm fine," Brennan said shortly.

"I'll have one," Booth said.

"Right this way." They followed her into the spacious foyer and through a wide archway into the kitchen. The cabinets were made of a dark wood and lined two walls, both above and below. A platter of chocolate cookies sat at the end of one of the granite countertops. Parker had already retrieved one and was munching happily. Walking over, Booth ruffled his hair and grabbed a cookie for himself.

"This place is huge, Daddy!" Parker exclaimed.

"It sure is, buddy," Booth agreed.

"As you can see, the kitchen has been completely redone," Mrs. Jacobi said. "There are brand new, state-of-the-art appliances, and all the countertops and cabinets are new."

"It's very nice," Brennan agreed, studying the area around her.

"The dining room is through these doors," Mrs. Jacobi said, pointing to an empty room with two large windows to one side that admitted enough light to make the overhead light unnecessary. "And there is a breakfast area that way. All of the rooms on the bottom floor are hardwood which I believe is ideal for children since you don't have to worry about stains. The previous owners varnished them recently, so they are in excellent condition. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the rest of the house." Mrs. Jacobi led them to a door at the back of the breakfast area. Opening it, she led them onto a small back porch with a set of steps to one side leading to a large backyard surrounded by a short, chainlink fence. "Again, the large backyard makes this house perfect for children. There's plenty of room for a swingset and for kids to have enough space to run around."

"I like this house, Daddy," Parker said, gazing at the backyard.

"Let's see the rest of it before deciding," Booth said, laughing. They followed Mrs. Jacobi through the remaining portion of the first story, listening as she explained the features of each room. A door set into one wall of the foyer opened to reveal a set of stairs which led to a large, finished basement, complete with a bathroom. "This is one of my favorite parts of this house," Mrs. Jacobi said, flipping on the lights to reveal a huge room with dark brown carpet. "It would make an excellent playroom or, with a few modifications, a small space that you could rent out. There's a door in the back, so the renter would have his or her own entrance."

"Make it a playroom, please, Dr. Bones!" Parker begged, gazing at the space around him.

"I'm not even sure if I'm buying the house," Brennan told him.

"But it's so _cool_."

"Why don't I show you the upstairs?" Mrs. Jacobi suggested.

After exploring all four bedrooms, Booth was grinning widely and Parker was bouncing around with excitement. Brennan, as usual, showed little emotion. The scientist had taken over and Booth could see the wheels turning in her head, likely churning out a pro-con list so she could make a rational decision. "Well, that's it except for the attic," Mrs. Jacobi announced. "Now, we already have one offer on the house, but you still have a couple days to think it over."

"Actually, could you give us a minute?" Booth asked.

"Of course. If you need me, I'll be downstairs in the kitchen." When she left, Booth turned to Brennan, his eyebrows raised.

"Well?"

"It's very nice," Brennan said, still gazing at the room which Parker had already decided would be his.

"Come on, Bones, it's perfect."

"Nothing can be perfect, Booth."

"Well, it's pretty close. What's wrong, Bones?"

With great deliberation, she turned to face him, a distant look in her eyes. "I haven't lived in a house since I was fifteen."

"Oh God, Bones, I'm an idiot. I'm sorry." Booth moved closer and gathered her in his arms.

"It's fine, Booth. I need to move past that anyway. You're right, this is a nice house, and it'll be good for me to buy it."

"You sure, Bones? Because we can look some more."

"No. I want to make an offer."

Booth smiled. Once Brennan made a decision, she wanted to carry it through as soon as possible. "Just one more thing, Bones." Booth took a deep breath, unsure of how Brennan would react to his suggestion. "I want to put my name on the mortgage and ownership agreements," he said quickly. "I mean, we don't have to move in together or anything; I'll still keep my apartment and stuff. But I can help a little with payments and that way in the future. . ." He trailed off.

"You don't need to help with payments. I have plenty of money."

"But part of the reason why you're getting this is for Parker and I. I feel like I should help."

"I'll pay for it." Booth saw the firm set of her jaw and knew there was no point in arguing. He would work on convincing her to let him help later. Booth turned to tell the real estate agent what they had decided. "Wait!" Brennan called. He turned to see her still in the center of the room with her bottom lip captured between her teeth. "We could," she finally said.

"Could what?" Booth questioned.

"Move in together. I mean, it makes sense. There's no point in you keeping an apartment when there'll be plenty of space here. Besides, we already sleep at the same apartment many nights anyway. It's a logical step."

"You know if we move in together, that means we can't escape from each other if we argue. We'll be stuck with each other."

"You don't have to move in with me if you don't want to."

"Of course I want to. I want to make sure you do."

"It's logical," Brennan repeated. She did not know what had possessed her to ask Booth to move in, but she was not going to change her decision. Although she had claimed that she asked only because it was logical, something else had caused the words to come out of her mouth. She supposed Booth would tell her it was her emotions, and she was beginning to believe that he would be correct. Normally, this realization would have frightened her, and she would be out the door in a flash. But she could not be scared around Booth. He had been her friend and partner first; they had formed a solid relationship before romance entered the picture. She was not afraid of commitment because she had already been committed for a year and a half.

"In that case, I would love to move in with you, Bones."

When they informed the realtor of their decision, she clapped her hands excitedly. "Wonderful!" she told them. As they began to go over the details, Booth kept an eye on Parker and saw the small boy growing restless. He tapped Brennan's shoulder to attract her attention.

"Mrs. Jacobi, I'm afraid we're going to need to get going," Booth said, standing. "Four-year-olds have relatively short attention spans."

"Of course. I'll give your offer to the owners and call you with an update sometime next week. You have my card; feel free to call with any questions or concerns or if anything changes."

"We'll do that. Thank you," Brennan said.

"It was my pleasure." She led them to the door and waved as they walked back to the car.

"What are we doing now, Daddy?" Parker questioned as Booth strapped him into the booster seat.

"I thought we could go to the Jeffersonian," Brennan said.

Booth glared at her. "No work."

"I wasn't going to work. But they have a new Egyptian exhibit which Parker might like. And of course, there's the dinosaurs."

At the mention of dinosaurs, Parker's eyes lit up, and he turned to his father eagerly. "Dinosaurs, Daddy! Let's go!"

"I guess we're going," Booth said, tightening the straps of Parker's booster seat before reaching out to make sure that Aaron was also secure.


	2. Chapter 2

They stopped at a sandwich place a couple blocks from the museum for lunch. Parker dominated the conversation, eagerly spouting off all he knew about dinosaurs which, to Brennan's surprise, turned out to be quite a lot. According to Booth, Parker insisted on having a different dinosaur book read to him every night. Halfway through lunch, Brennan's phone rang, and she walked outside to answer it.

"Brennan," she said.

"Hey, Sweetie," Angela greeted. "What have you been up to?"

"I was just looking at houses with Booth, Parker, and Aaron," Brennan answered, looking back at the three people in question.

"Looking at houses?"

"Yeah. With Aaron, my apartment's too small. I was going to try to find another one, but Booth suggested that I buy a house, and it seemed like the logical thing to do."

"But a house is a huge step, Sweetie. Don't get me wrong, I think it's a great idea, but you should have told your best friend."

"Booth only suggested it last night."

"Wait. Are you two going to live together?"

"I think so. It makes sense."

Angela squealed. "I'm so happy for you, Sweetie!"

"You know, this doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind about marriage or kids."

"I know, Sweetie. But it's something."

"Have I abandoned my principles, Angela?" Brennan asked suddenly.

"Of course not," Angela assured her. "You're just doing what's most logical to you. That's what you've always done."

"But since when is moving in with someone logical?"

"People do it everyday, Sweetie. You love Booth, and he's a big part of your life. There's no reason to move in with him."

"Thanks, Angela."

"No problem, Sweetie. Have fun with your G-man and the kids."

"Bye, Angela."

When they reached the Jeffersonian, they stopped first at the Egyptian exhibit. Parker was fascinated with the mummies, and he asked countless questions as they wandered slowly through the exhibit. Although Egyptology was not her specialty, Brennan knew enough to answer his questions. At one point in time, Parker turned to his father with wide eyes. "Daddy, Dr. Bones knows _everything!_" Parker said in amazement.

Booth laughed and pulled Brennan close with an arm around her waist. "I certainly agree, Bub," he said.

They spent over two hours in the Egyptian exhibit. Parker only tore his eyes from the mummy in the center of the exhibit when Booth suggested they go see the dinosaurs. "Just a minute. Let me make a quick phone call," Brennan said as they left the exhibit. While Booth waited with the boys, she walked to the corner a few feet away so that he could not hear her.

"What was that about?" he questioned.

"You'll see," she answered enigmatically, giving him a very un-Brennan-like smile.

A man in his late forties smiled at them from the entrance to the dinosaur exhibit. He wore charcoal gray pants, a white, collared shirt, and a tie which had been loosened. A few wisps of gray hair curled around his ears, but most of his hair was still a sandy brown. His face was tanned and leathery with smooth features and intelligent green eyes. "Dr. Temperance Brennan," he greeted when she approached. He grabbed her hand between two large, calloused ones, shaking it warmly. "It's about time you visited my humble abode." Brennan smiled in return, and the man dropped her hand and turned to Booth. "I assume you are Agent Booth," he said, extending his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Isaac Lerner, and I run this exhibit. Dr. Brennan here has helped us quite often with carbon dating and some other tests, and I keep telling her I owe her a favor. It seems she's finally decided to ask. Though we're far from even." He looked back at Brennan, and his eyes traveled down to Parker who stood beside her legs. "And this must be Parker," he said, crouching in front of the small boy and raising his hand. Parker considered for a moment before giving him a high-five.

"Are you really in charge of the exhibit?" he asked.

"I sure am. Would you like a behind the scenes tour?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay then. Follow me."

Dr. Lerner led them through a door marked "Employees Only" and began to explain to Parker where the dinosaur bones came from, how people dug them up, and how they were cleaned. He showed Parker some of the bones and even helped him to carefully clean one. When Dr. Lerner mentioned that he had helped dig up some of the bones, Parker's fascination increased exponentially and a barrage of questions poured from his mouth. Dr. Lerner answered them all patiently as he continued to show Parker some of the equipment. After they had explored the entire back area, Dr. Lerner took them into the exhibit and explained the features of the different dinosaurs on display. Booth and Brennan hung back slightly, watching as Parker hung on to every word which came out of Dr. Lerner's mouth. "He is going to be a squint," Booth declared.

"Does that bother you?"

Booth looked at her. "Not at all."

When Dr. Lerner finally led them back to the front of the exhibit, it was nearing dinner time. For once, however, Parker was not complaining about hunger. He was bouncing up and down excitedly, clutching two large books that Dr. Lerner had given him. Dr. Lerner had written them himself, a fact which further increased his esteem in Parker's eyes. "Well, Parker, I've really enjoyed meeting you," he said, holding out his hand again. This time, Parker slapped it with much more enthusiasm. "If you ever want to come back, I'd be happy to show you around some more. Just tell the guard you're looking for Dr. Lerner, and he'll find me."

"Cool!" Parker met his father's eyes and quickly added, "Thank you, Dr. Lerner. It was a lot of fun."

"I'll see you later."

As they walked out of the building, Parker skipped along beside Brennan, talking about what he was learned. "This was the bestest day ever!" he said.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Brennan said.

"Can we come back next weekend?"

Brennan smiled slightly. "We'll see."

Booth made dinner that night while Parker played with his Hot Wheels in the living room. After changing Aaron, Brennan placed him in Parker's old crib which Booth had set up in his bedroom. She joined Booth in the kitchen, watching as he chopped carrots. "I thought you didn't cook," she remarked, observing his deft hands.

"I don't cook when I'm by myself. But I try to get Parker to eat reasonably healthy, so I cook for him." He dumped the carrots in a pan and reached for a couple squash.

Parker refused to eat his vegetables at first, but Booth threatened him with no dessert, and he grudgingly shoved a bite in his mouth. Grimacing theatrically, he swallowed, still staring at the vegetables as if they had committed a serious offense against him. He looked back up at his father, his eyes pleading for reprieve, but Booth nodded back to the vegetables. Knowing he would not win, Parker finished them off quickly before taking a long gulp of his milk. "Can I get dessert now, Daddy?" he questioned.

"Okay." Booth took his plate and stacked it in the sink before opening the freezer. "You want an ice cream sandwich, Bones?" he questioned.

"Sure," she answered, shifting Aaron as he finished his bottle. Booth placed an ice cream sandwich in front of both her and Parker before ripping open a third and taking a large bite. Parker eagerly dug into the treat; by the time he finished, his face was covered in chocolate.

"I think someone needs a bath," Booth said.

Fear flickered across Parker's eyes. "I don't need a bath."

"Oh yes, you do. Come on." Booth stood up, but Parker remained seated.

"I can do it myself," he said.

"Maybe in a couple years."

"Daddy, I don't want a bath."

"Too bad. You're getting one." Booth started toward the bathroom and looked back to see Parker still sitting at the table. "Don't make me come over and get you," Booth warned. Slowly, Parker stood up and trudged over to his father. "Thank you." Booth led him into the bathroom and closed the door before starting the water, testing the temperature with his hand. He fiddled with the knob until he was satisfied and quickly plugged the drain. "Okay, Bub, arms up," he instructed. Parker shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. "Parker, that is enough. You are going to take a bath. Now, put your arms up before I give you a spanking." Reluctantly, Parker raised his hands above his head. Booth pulled off his shirt. The small boy immediately huddled in a ball on the floor but not before Booth had seen the multitude of bruises covering his chest. "Parker, what happened?" Booth asked.

"Nothing." Parker had tucked his head between his legs and his chest, and his voice was slightly muffled.

Booth placed a hand under Parker's chin and forced him to look up. "Bub, you have to tell me what's going on." Parker shook his head frantically, his eyes wide with fear. "Parker, if someone's hurting you, I need to know so I can help you."

"I'm not supposed to tell you," Parker mumbled.

"Who told you that?"

Parker's head returned to his knees. "Mommy," he mumbled.

"Did Mommy do this to you?" Booth could not believe that Rebecca would hit her own son. He had thought she loved Parker. Of course, he had seen plenty of cases of child abuse where the parents had treated their kids normally until they were alone. Still, he did not want to believe his assessment of Rebecca's character had been so wrong.

Parker's blond curls bounced as he shook his head. "Who did this to you?" Booth inquired, feeling his heart break as he watched his four-year-old son shaking on the floor. Suddenly, Booth realized what had happened. "Parker, did Drew do this?" he questioned. Parker's head rose from his knees, and Booth saw that his brown eyes were shining with tears. Slowly, Parker nodded. The dam broke, and the tears began to fall freely down Parker's face. Booth leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his son.

"Drew got a new job," Parker explained, his words broken by sobs. "But it's really far away. He said that Mommy and me were going to go with him, but I told him I didn't want to go anywhere 'cuz I didn't want to leave you and Dr. Bones. He said I was being selfish, and I said he was, and he got really mad. Then he hit me. I started crying, and he hit me again and again 'til Mommy stopped him. I don't like him, Daddy."

"Shh, Bub, it's okay," Booth soothed, rubbing his back. "He's never going to hurt you again. I promise." Booth allowed Parker to cry onto his shirt for a couple more minutes before standing, carrying Parker with him. Parker's arms looped around his father's neck, and his legs wrapped around his waist. Still whispering words of comfort, Booth carried Parker into the living room. He found Brennan sitting on the couch, rocking Aaron. She looked at him curiously.

"Booth, what's going on?"

"I need to go out for a little bit. Can you watch Parker?"

"Of course. But what-" Her sentence ended abruptly when she saw one of the bruises which extended across Parker's side. Looking up, Brennan's eyes met Booth's, and she saw the fire which raged in their normally warm, chocolate depths. "Booth-"

"I need to do this, Bones." His eyes conveyed the feelings he could not express with words. Brennan nodded and walked to Booth's bedroom, returning to Booth's side without Aaron. Gently, Booth loosened Parker's grip on his body. "I need you to stay here with Bones for a little bit, Bub," he said. Parker allowed Booth to transfer him into Brennan's arms and immediately wrapped himself around her. Booth kissed his head and gave Brennan a short peck on the lips. "I'll be back soon," he promised. Brennan nodded.

Booth was so blinded by rage that he was surprised he arrived at Rebecca's without crashing. He slammed the door of the car shut forcefully and strode up the driveway without bothering to lock it. He depressed the doorbell button and held it for a few seconds, listening to the chiming within the house. After a few seconds of silence, he pressed it again, slamming his fist into it. Impatiently, he continued to push it until he saw the door crack open. Rebecca saw him and pushed the door wider. "Seeley? What's going on? Is Parker okay?"

"Where's Drew?"

"What?"

"I said where the hell is Drew?" Booth roared. Rebecca moved back a couple steps, momentarily silenced by the force of Booth's wrath.

"Becca? Is something wrong?" a voice called from inside their house. Booth's eyes gleamed like a predator who had caught sight of his prey, and he pushed past her, ignoring her protests as he strode into the house. He saw Drew rounding the corner and walked straight for him. "Agent Booth. What are-" Drew's words were cut off as Booth reached him and grabbed his shirt, shoving him forcefully against the wall. With about six inches and forty pounds on the other man, Booth had no trouble lifting Drew off his feet. Booth's left arm came to rest across Drew's throat applying a pressure light enough to avoid killing him but strong enough to severely frighten him. His right hand held Drew against the wall so that Drew could only watch fearfully as Booth leaned closer.

"How does it feel?" Booth asked, pushing harder on Drew's chest. "Not so good on the receiving end, is it?" His eyes leered dangerously at the smaller man. Suddenly, Booth released Drew who slid to the floor, coughing. "Get up," Booth instructed.

"Seeley," Rebecca said from behind him.

Booth ignored her and kicked Drew. "I SAID GET UP!"

"Seeley, I want you to leave now or I'm calling the cops," Rebecca said.

Booth whirled around to face her. "Go ahead. I'll simply explain why I'm hitting this man, and they'll let me go about my business. Hell, they'll probably help." With Booth's attention elsewhere, Drew stood and hurled himself at Booth's unprotected back. But Booth possessed reflexes born from years in the army and FBI. His elbow shot backwards, connecting painfully with Drew's stomach and knocking the breath from his body. Turning, Booth shoved his fist into Drew's face, hearing the satisfying sound of something breaking. "No one hurts my son," Booth growled, enforcing his words with another punch, this one to Drew's right side. By this time, Drew was doubled over, his breathing labored and blood dripping from his face. But Booth had not finished. Grabbing Drew's shirt, he flung him against a nearby table. It toppled over, sending the potted plant on top soaring across the room. "Did you hear me, you son of a bitch?" Booth roared. He crouched over Drew, planting one foot on each side so that he straddled his body. Grabbing Drew's shirt, Booth pulled him up so that their faces were inches apart. "If I ever so much as see you again," Booth hissed through clenched teeth, "I will personally make sure that you never see the light of day. Do you understand?" Drew gave no response, and Booth punched him in the face once more. "I said do you understand?"

"Yes," Drew groaned weakly.

"Good." Booth stood up, kicking Drew's side. Wheezing, Drew curled up into a fetal position.

"Seeley, I understand you're upset-" Rebecca began.

"Upset?" Booth shouted. "Upset would be if you were late dropping Parker off. But you let this bastard beat up our son! And they you told him to lie about it!"

"Because I knew you'd overreact, and you did."

"My son is sobbing his eyes out and covered in bruises. This is not overreacting. Pull your head out of your ass, Rebecca, and look at the filth you let into your life."

"My life? What about you and that doctor of yours?"

Booth's fist slammed into the wall an inch from her head, making her cringe. "Don't you dare say anything about Bones," he warned in a terrifying whisper.

"Look, Booth, it was an accident. Drew was stressed and Parker set him off. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't. Because Drew's never going near Parker again. And neither are you as long as you're with him."

"You can't keep me from my son!"

"Watch me."

"That's illegal."

"Trust me, I have the state of Virginia on my side. Goodbye, Rebecca." With that, Booth left, slamming the door hard enough to make it shake.


	3. Chapter 3

When Booth returned to his apartment, he found Brennan sitting on the sofa with Parker's head resting in her lap. He assumed she had bathed him, for the young boy was dressed in his favorite blue dinosaur pajamas and his blond curls were damp. She was reading from one of the books Dr. Lerner had given him earlier that day. She looked up at him and he met her gaze briefly before walking into the kitchen. He ran water over his hands, scrubbing the blood from them, and returned to the living room. Scooping Parker into his arms, Booth held him tightly against his chest. "Promise me you'll tell me if anyone hurts you ever again," he whispered.

"I promise, Daddy." Parker buried his head against his father's neck. Having Parker safe in his arms calmed Booth considerably, and he felt the murderous rage abate somewhat. Looking at Brennan, he reached out and squeezed her hand. "Thank you," he mouthed.

After a couple minutes, Parker stirred. "Can we read some more of the dinosaur book, Daddy?" he questioned. Booth looked down into the eyes so similar to his own and saw that the pain which had earlier plagued them had already disappeared. At four, Parker had an amazing resilience and could forget even the worst horrors within a few hours. Booth wished that he shared this trait.

"Of course, Bub." Aaron began to cry at that moment, and Brennan stood to tend to him, passing the book to Booth. Opening to the page she had marked, Booth began read. His deep, familiar voice soothed Parker who cuddled contentedly against her father's chest.

After putting Parker to bed, Booth joined Brennan on the couch. She had found a notepad and pen in the kitchen and was scribbling names onto a piece of paper. "What are you doing, Bones?"

"I'm writing down the names of all the good lawyers I know, starting with the ones who owe me a favor." Booth looked at her in amazement, thinking about how much he loved her. He looked forward and kissed her passionately, taking her by surprise. It did not take long, however, for her to wrap her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. As their tongues dueled, Booth began to relax. The fire which had consumed him since he first saw the bruises changed from one of rage to one of desire. Gently, he started to lower her to the couch, but she pushed him away. "Let me take care of you for once, Seeley," she told him, lifting his shirt over his head. When she pushed at his shoulders, he obediently lay back on the couch, allowing her hands and mouth to work their magic.

Awhile later, they lay tangled together on the couch, sated and happy. "So Parker told you then?" Booth questioned as his hand glided over Brennan's naked back, sending chills down her spine.

"I just deduced what had happened. Drew, I'm guessing."

"The bastard," Booth whispered vehemently.

"I'm sorry, Booth."

"I'm sorry, too. I can't believe I didn't notice sooner!"

"It's not your fault, Booth." A year and a half with Booth had taught Brennan many lessons about comforting people. Although she would not have known how to respond to Booth's anguish a year before, she now had a better idea of what to do.

"That doesn't stop it from hurting." Booth was silent for a minute or two. "I'm going to file for full custody," he finally said.

"It's only logical. That's why I was looking for lawyers."

"You're always one step ahead of me, Bones."

"Not always. On occasion, you-"

"I was exaggerating, Bones." His hand moved a little bit lower, and he pulled her closer. "You know, they're going to drag us and our relationship through the muck," Booth said. "Custody battles always get ugly."

"I can handle it."

"Right. I forgot. You're superwoman."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it, Bones. I just want to warn you."

"Booth, Parker is very important to you, so he's important to me, too. I love him. So we're going to do this regardless of what happens."

"I can't help but wonder what will happen if we lose."

"I understand your concerns. Statistically, the court is much more likely to rule in the mother's favor during a custody case."

"You're not helping, Bones."

"Sorry. But there's one thing about statistics, Booth. Very few are 100%. So they don't always hold true."

About thirty minutes after Booth and Brennan went to bed, the soft sound of footsteps woke Booth from his sleep. His hand instinctively reached for his gun as his muscles tensed. Before his hand closed on the cool metal, however, he saw the door open, revealing a figure less than four feet tall. Booth relaxed and turned to his son. "Parker, what are you doing out of bed?" he questioned.

"I had a nightmare." Parker was clutching his faded blue blanket, and his thumb was almost completely inside his mouth. Though he had stopped sucking his thumb habitually, Parker still reverted to this action when frightened.

"Do you want to sleep in here?" Booth asked. Parker nodded, and Booth pulled back the covers on his left side, expecting Parker to crawl into bed there. Instead, Parker crawled between Booth and Brennan, snuggling against Brennan's side. Booth smiled at the sight and pulled the blanket around the two people he loved most in the world. He wrapped an arm around both of them and fell quickly asleep.

At Booth's urging, Brennan went to church with him and Parker the following morning. After lunch, they all sat down to play a game of "racecars" in the living room. Basically, the game consisted of the three of them pushing small, plastic cars around the carpet. Brennan did not understand how the game could be so entertaining, but Parker seemed to enjoy it, so she played. Hearing a knock at the door, Booth stood, lifting Aaron from his lap and into his arms. He looked through the peephole and saw Rebecca standing there with her hands in her coat pockets. "Bones." Booth turned, and their eyes met. An understanding passed between them, and Brennan quickly rose to her feet and took Aaron from him. "Come on, Parker, let's go into your bedroom," she suggested.

"Why?"

"I think your bed would make a good track."

Parker thought for a minute. "Okay," he finally agreed. As soon as the door closed behind him, booth opened the front door.

"I want to see Parker," Rebecca said.

"Are you still dating Drew?"

"Of course."

"Then you can't see Parker."

"He's my son, too, Seeley."

"You made a choice. You chose Drew over him."

"That's ridiculous. Drew is not a bad man."

"Good men don't hurt children."

"Just let me see him."

"I'm filing for full custody. You should have the paperwork sometime this week. In the meantime, I would suggest looking for a good lawyer."

"Seeley, don't do this."

"I didn't do this. You did the minute you let that bastard into our son's life. Now, I would suggest leaving before I call security." Booth shut the door, locking it and sliding the chain into place. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the door and took a deep breath. It was time to face the music. He needed to tell Parker that he would not be seeing his mother for awhile. But he could not think of what to say.

After a few seconds, Booth straightened and walked back to Parker's room. "Hey, Bub. Can we talk for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Daddy. Why?"

"Come here." Booth sat on the edge of the bed and patted his knees. Parker walked over and perched himself in his father's lap. "Mommy's not going to come pick you up today," Booth explained.

"Why?" Parker asked again. Booth sighed. Parker was at the stage in his life where that word was his response to everything.

"Your mom has some things she needs to work out. I think you'll be safer here with us for awhile."

"Is Drew still at our house?"

"That's one of the things your mom has to work out."

"I don't wanna see him again. He scares me."

"Don't worry, Bub. You won't ever see him again."

"What about Mommy? I wanna see her."

"You will, Bub. Just not right now. Wait until she works things out." Booth paused, picking the best words for his next question. "What do you think of staying with me all the time, Bub?"

"Would Dr. Bones be here, too?"

"Uh-huh. And Aaron. We were thinking of moving into that big house we looked at yesterday. Would you like that?"

"Yeah! I could have a big room and a playroom and a swingset." He stopped, thinking. "Does this mean I don't have to move far away?"

"Nope. You'll stay right here with us."

"Okay!" He frowned suddenly. "Will Mommy move far away?"

"I don't know what Mommy will do."

"But I'll see her still?"

"Sometime."

"And no Drew?"

"No Drew."

"Okay. Let's play cars!" Booth smiled and knelt beside him on the floor.

From cars, they progressed to basketball, a game Brenan only reluctantly joined after Booth threw the ball to her and refused to take it back. Drawing followed basketball, then a review of the bones of the body, a game of hide and seek, three puzzles, and building a tower from blocks. Brennan offered to cook that night, so Booth helped Parker pick up his toys as she prepared the food. Once they had eaten, Parker finally settled down somewhat, and Booth put in _The Land Before Time III. _Parker claimed Brennan's lap, so Booth took Aaron from her arms and settled beside her.

After both boys were in bed, Booth and Brennan sat down together on the couch. "I'm exhausted," Brennan said, rubbing her eyes.

Booth smiled. "Welcome to the wonderful world of raising a four-year-old."

"I don't know if I can do this all the time."

"Honestly, I don't either. But I know I will."

"You can't know that."

"Sure I can. I love Parker. And I have faith that love makes everything possible." Booth turned so their eyes met.

"I can't have that faith."

"I know that Bones. That's why we work well together."

"Oh. I meant to tell you. I finished that list of lawyers." Brennan leaned forward and pulled a sheet of paper from beneath the TV Guide on the table. "The numbers are all on the right. I can start calling some of them tomorrow during lunch."

"I love you, Bones," Booth said, scanning the list which contained more than twenty names.

"I love you, too, Booth," Brennan told him. Setting the list aside, he leaned forward and kissed her. The pressure of his lips forced her backward, and her back ended up pressed against the seat of the couch. He lifted her legs and placed them on the cushion of the couch between his own legs. Using his muscular arms to support himself, he positioned his body directly above hers, lowering himself so that their bodies touched slightly. Once of his hands moved to the collar of her blouse, easily unbuttoning it. She arched her back slightly to allow him to discard it and her bra, simultaneously pressing her body closer to his. She heard his breath catch in his throat at this unexpected increase in contact. He pulled away and looked at her, his lips still parted slightly.

"You're beautiful," he breathed. Brennan met his gaze with equal intensity, unable to respond to his matter-of-fact statement. Many of her previous lovers had said the exact same words, but they never said them in quite the same way as Booth did. He said the two words like Brennan would say the name of a bone—as if her beauty was an irrefutable fact. Brennan knew this was not true, but she certainly felt no desire to argue.

Booth's hands had soon removed her bra and shirt, and his hands and lips explored her upper body eagerly. When he reached the waistband of her pants, he quickly removed them, too. Sitting up, he moved his hands to her calves and feet, massaging them, his lips following leisurely. By the time his tickling fingers reached the upper part of her thigh, Brennan was clutching the fabric of the sofa tightly, trying to retain control. Booth was a master of slow build-ups; he could bring Brennan to the edge without ever removing her underwear. Although Brennan's impatience and desire to be in control likely would have taken over by this time in her previous relationships, she trusted Booth enough to allow him to continue at his own pace.

Booth's hand reached her underwear, and he could feel the heat of desire. He rubbed her clit lightly though her underwear, teasing her, and her hips involuntarily jerked upward. With a slow smile, Booth placed a kiss on her underwear before pulling it off. Standing, he stripped off all his clothing and returned to his previous position directly above Brennan. His hand caressed her face, pushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes which were tightly shut. "Look at me, Temperance," he instructed in a voice just above a whisper. Her eyelids slid open, and their eyes locked together as he slowly slid himself inside of her.

Brennan woke later than usual the next morning. She carefully rolled out from under Booth's arm, trying not wake him. As her weight shifted in the bed, he stirred, and his eyes opened slightly. "Bones, what are you doing up at," his sleep-ridden eyes found the clock beside the bed, "6:00 in the morning."

"I'm going for a run."

"A run?" Booth pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position. "Why?"

"Running is a great way to stay healthy. Your heart is like any other muscle; it needs to be used to stay strong. Also, it keeps your arteries from becoming clogged which will lower your blood pressure and reduce the risk of a heart attack or stroke."

Booth groaned. "It's too early for squint speak."

"You can just go back to sleep, Booth."

"No, I'm up now. I'll come with you. I just don't understand why you can't run at night like a normal person."

"Running is a great way to wake up in the morning," Brennan explained. "It releases endorphins which-"

"Squint speak, Bones," Booth reminded her. He looked at the crib in the corner of the room. "What about the boys?"

"We put Aaron's stroller in your car when we stopped at my apartment after church yesterday," Brennan reminded him. "I assume you also have a stroller for Parker."

"Yeah. I hope it's still big enough." Booth stood and stretched. He opened a drawer and dug through it for a moment before pulling out a faded gray t-shirt. He pulled this on over the black sweatpants he already wore. After also adding a green sweatshirt, he left to wake Parker. As Booth expected, Parker complained about the early hour but still allowed his father to dress him in warm clothing and carry him into the living room where Brennan already waited with Aaron.

They jogged to a nearby park. Because of the early hour, they passed no one else on the sidewalks, and only the occasional car drove past. Parker insisted on running by himself for the first fifteen minutes, so their pace was no faster than a brisk walk. After a short time, Parker began to complain that his legs were growing tired, so Booth pushed him in the stroller for the remainder of the trip. When they returned to the apartment, Booth was drenched with perspiration despite the chilly weather. He considered himself to be in excellent shape, but he still had found it difficult to keep up with Brennan at times.

By the time they had all showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast, it was just after 7:30. Brennan had found a daycare center near the Jeffersonian for Aaron, and Booth had decided to move Parker there from his old preschool, hoping to avoid Rebecca. Parker had pouted a bit about having to leave his friends but had still accepted the change better than Booth had anticipated. After filling out the required paperwork at the daycare center, Booth pulled Parker's teacher aside. "I just wanted to make sure that you know not to release him to anyone except for Dr. Brennan or I," he said.

"Of course, Agent Booth. We have very strict regulations on who is allowed to pick up the children."

"Yes, but you can't release him to anyone else. Not even his mother. If she shows up, call me or Dr. Brennan."

The woman appeared slightly puzzled but said only, "Yes, Agent Booth."

"Good. Thank you. I'll see you this afternoon."

Booth actually arrived at the Hoover Building earlier than usual, and he decided to use the extra time to speak to Cullen about his and Brennan's evolving relationship, a conversation he had been avoiding. When he reached Cullen's office, he raised a fist to knock and stopped. Once he told Cullen, he had no idea what would happen. Cullen could split them up; in fact, he probably would. Booth did not know if he could continue working without Brennan. Nothing would be the same.

Of course, Booth could stand outside his boss's office and continue to speculate all day. He would not know anything for sure until he actually told Cullen. Steeling himself, Booth rapped his knuckles on the door. A gruff voice from inside told him to come in. Booth pushed the door open, and Cullen looked up from an open file folder on his desk. "Agent Booth. What can I do for you?"

"There's something I need to tell you, sir."

"No good conversation started with those words."

"You see sir, Dr. Brennan and I, well. . . we've decided to pursue a relationship." Booth stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Cullen's eyes. He was waiting for the wave of fury he knew he had released.

"I expected this would happen eventually," Cullen said in a voice considerably calmer than Booth had expected.

"So it's okay then?" Booth asked, hardly daring to hope.

"It most certainly isn't. I should split you two up."

"You can't, sir."

Cullen's eyes narrowed. "I am your superior, Agent Booth. I can do whatever the hell I want."

"Sorry. It's just. . . I don't want to work anywhere else. I don't think I could. And Bones. . . well, she gets used to her routine. She's not very receptive to change."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't assign a different agent to the Jeffersonian," Cullen said.

"Because Bones and I work well together. We have one of the highest success rates at the Bureau."

"The success rate might be just as high if I assigned another agent to work with Dr. Brennan."

"Sir, please."

"I'll consider it, Agent Booth. On two conditions."

"Anything."

"One, you remain strict professionals at work. What you do on your own time is none of my concern, but if I suspect that your personal life is intruding on your work at all, you will be doing nothing but desk work for a long time."

"Of course, sir."

"And two, you'll both have to see a psychiatrist to insure that this will not affect your work."

"A psychiatrist? Sir, I don't know."

"That's my offer, Agent Booth. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it."

"Good. An FBI psychiatrist should be in touch."

Because Booth had a good deal of paperwork to finish, he called Brennan to tell her he would meet her for lunch. While he had her on the phone, he also informed her of Cullen's ultimatum. She protested the psychiatrist for a bit but eventually relented when Booth reminded her of their other option. "Try to schedule the appointment during lunch," she told him. "I have a lot to catch up on."

"I'll see what I can do, Bones."

Brennan always kept a few protein bars and some fruit in her office, so she grabbed an apple and a Cliff bar from lunch. As she started calling the lawyers on her list, Angela walked in halfway through the second call and waited in the doorway until Brennan replaced the phone in its cradle. "Who was that?" Angela questioned.

"Just a lawyer I know."

"A lawyer? For what?"

"Booth's going to try to get fully custody of Parker."

"What?"

Brennan sighed, massaging her temple. It had been a long weekend, and she had a feeling her life was merely going to become more stressful in the coming months. "Rebecca's new boyfriend was abusing him. Booth found out so he won't let her see Parker anymore."

"She won't break up with him?"

"No. I don't understand it. Her maternal instinct should force her to do whatever is necessary to protect her child. But she didn't."

"Sounds like you two had a busy weekend."

"We did. I didn't even have a chance to finish the next chapter of my book."

"How did house hunting turn out?"

"We found one that we both like. And Parker likes it, too."

"I'm excited for you, Sweetie."

"I can't help but wonder what will happen if Booth leaves."

"Bren, that man is so in love with you, you'd have to be blind not to see it. Trust me, he isn't going anywhere."

"But-" Before Brennan could finish, the door opened and Zach's head appeared.

"Dr. Brennan, I have a couple questions on that Crusader," he said.

"Okay, Zach, I'll be right there." Brennan took a final bite of her apple and tossed the core in the trash. She stood and slipped her arms into her lab coat, turning to the door.

"We'll talk later, Bren," Angela promised.


	4. Chapter 4

Just after 4:30, Brennan heard the unmistakable sounds of someone running across the linoleum floor of the lab. She looked up in enough time to see the door swing open and hit the wall with a crash. Parker launched himself at her, talking so fast that it took a few seconds for Brennan to comprehend what he was saying. "And I almost fell off, but I didn't, and this other boy saw me and said I was really good. I told him I had lots of muscle 'cuz I do push-ups with Daddy sometimes. He told me his name was Ricky, and we played together after that. His Daddy's a pilot which is pretty cool but not as cool as being an FBI agent."

By that time, Booth had reached the doorway. "Sorry. I tried to get him to slow down, but he really wanted to see you."

"It's okay. Let me finish up a couple more things in this report and I'll be ready to go." Brennan swiveled her chair back to face the computer with Parker still perched in her lap.

"Okay. I need to change Aaron."

"There's a towel in his bag. Just spread it over the couch," Brennan said without turning to face him. "Hmm, that's odd."

"What?" Parker questioned.

"His skull shows shallow depressions. I wonder-"

"Absolutely not, Bones!" Booth said when he saw her reach for a pair of gloves. "You can look at all the depressions you want tomorrow morning. Right now, we're going home."

"It will only take a minute."

"No!" Booth finished securing the clean diaper and placed Aaron back in his car seat. "Come on, Bones, let's rock and roll."

"Why would we listen to music?"

"Let's just go, Bones."

While Booth fixed dinner, Brennan played with Parker. He had a large rug in his room with a road running around it. Houses, farms, and a small lake were printed on to its surface. Parker sometimes used it as a racetrack as he was doing that particular afternoon. One corner had a small compass and Parker stared at it for a moment before asking Brennan what it was. "It's a compass," she explained. When he still looked puzzled, she elaborated. "It helps you figure out where you're going. There's four main directions which we call cardinal directions. North, South, East, and West." Brennan pointed to each one as she named it.

"That's confusing," Parker declared.

"Not if you use a mnemonic device."

"What's that?"

"It helps you remember things. In this case, it's 'Never Eat Soggy Waffles.' If you start at the top and go clockwise, the directions start with the same letters as the words in that phrase. North, East, South, West."

Parker giggled. "That's funny."

"But since it's odd, you remember it better."

They played for a few more minutes, and Parker began to split up his ears, placing them in various places around the rug. "They're going fishing," he announced, pulling two cars beside the lake. "And they're going home." Three other cars ended up in front of the row of houses.

When he placed two cars in a patch of grass at the right of the rug, Brennan asked, "Where are they going?"

"East," Parker answered promptly.

As Booth began running Parker's bathwater after dinner, Brennan walked in with a digital camera. "Booth?"

"Yeah, babe?" He turned to face her.

Brennan's eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that. It's-"

"Sorry, Bones," Booth interrupted. "Slip of the tongue. What is it?"

"I called a couple of lawyers today. They both agreed to help you, by the way. Free of charge."

Booth smiled. "I've got three others who also want to help. I'll certainly be well-represented."

"Yes, well, one of them suggested you take pictures." She glanced around the room to make sure that Parker was not present. Lowering her voice, she added, "Of the bruises. They said that what happens a lot in these cases is that the bruises fade by the time you get to court, and abuse is a whole lot harder to prove."

"Good idea, Bones. I'll do that."

Brennan worked on the next chapter of her book while Booth read to Parker and put him to bed. He came out of the room after awhile and said, "Bones, he's asking for you."

"Okay." Brennan typed a couple words to finish her current sentence before following Booth into Parker's room. Walking to the bed, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Parker's forehead. "Goodnight, Parker."

"Night, Dr. Bones," he mumbled, pulling his stuffed dinosaur closer. Brennan left the room, gently pulling the door shut behind her.

"I filed for custody today," Booth announced as Brennan sank onto the couch beside him, pulling her laptop toward her to continue writing. "So it's official now. I'm having a meeting with Rebecca and her lawyer Thursday at 2:00."

"Okay. I'll talk to Jenna and Dave. They should be able to come."

"I want you there, too, Bones."

"What? Why would I have to be there?"

"You're part of my life, Bones. We're in this together."

"I'll try. But if I have a lot of work-"

"Temperance, this is important."

The use of her first name caught her attention. "I'll be there."

"Good. Thank you."

Mid-morning the next day, Booth swept into the Jeffersonian. "Bones, we have a case!" he announced, swiping his card and joining her on the central platform.

"Give me a minute. I'm in the middle of identifying these remains."

"Okay. The local forensics guys are there already."

Brennan's head popped up so fast Booth would have sworn one of the vertebrae snapped. "They'll compromise the scene, Booth."

"Then we need to get down there and stop them."

"Fine." Brennan sighed and pulled off her gloves.

"That's my girl."

"I'm not anyone's girl."

They reached the scene in just over thirty minutes with Booth driving. As they drove, Booth explained the details of the case. "There was a lobster boat which pulled up one of its traps and found they had a skull in with all the lobsters."

"Was it human?"

"They didn't know. That's why they called us."

"Did they find any other bones?"

"Unfortunately not. The bay connects to the ocean, and it's a big place. We'll probably never find the rest of him. Or her."

A couple policemen were already at the scene when Booth and Brennan arrived. They were talking to a man with wild, red hair and a similar-colored beard that covered the bottom half of his face. He was wearing a tattered set of jeans held up by a set of suspenders and a long-sleeved shirt which had come untucked in places so that it hung oddly around his waist. As he talked, he gestured wildly at the ship around him with large, beefy hands.

"There's no forensics team here," Brennan said, glancing around.

"I know."

"So you lied to me?"

"You wouldn't have come so quickly otherwise. Now, come on. Let's go hear what this guy has to say." Booth led the way onto the ship and approached the two policemen.

"How long ago did you discover the skull?" one questioned.

"'Bout an hour and a half. We came back here soon as we did an' called you guys."

"Did any of your men touch it?" Brennan asked without waiting for introductions. The man looked at the newcomers curiously.

"Special Agent Booth, FBI," Booth said, showing his badge. "And this is Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"She don't look like no doctor." The man studied her figure.

"Doctor's don't look a certain way," Brennan pointed out. The man made no response but instead continued to stare unabashedly at her body. Automatically, Booth reached out and put an arm around her waist. When Brennan glared at him, he sheepishly dropped it, allowing his hands to curl into fists at his sides. He wanted to punch the man, but he was afraid he would no longer be cooperative after such an action. Brennan failed to notice the man's lecherous gaze, again asking, "Did you or anyone else touch the skull?"

"No way, baby."

"Don't call me that." Booth smiled as her eyes narrowed at the man, glad that, for once, he was not on the receiving end of the infamous Brennan glare. He almost felt bad for the man. Almost.

"Whaddya want me to call you?"

"Dr. Brennan will be sufficient." She turned to the officers. "Where is the skull?"

"Right this way, ma'am." One of the officers led Booth and Brennan to the back of the boat where an empty lobster trap hung open at the bottom. Its live occupants ad long since fled, leaving a few lobster carcasses and a graying skull. As soon as she saw it, Brennan knelt on the deck, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. As Brennan crouched down, Booth could not help but glance over her body. He could see why the man had been staring. Although Brennan's clothing was sensible and professional, it still accented her curves quite nicely, especially her-

Booth's staring was interrupted by Brennan's voice. "Booth? Are you even listening to me?" she questioned.

"Of course," he lied. "You were saying something about the skull."

"I said it's in remarkably good shape considering how long it's likely been in the ocean," she said, turning it over in her hands. "There are only a couple chips in the bone."

"Can you give me a time of death?"

"It would be impossible to say with any accuracy. There are too many factors to consider. The salt water could have changed the time for decomposition, and the fish likely helped with the removal of flesh, at least in part."

"Can you give me a guess?"

"I don't really know. I'd say between six months and two years, but it might be older or newer than that. Hodgins might be able to tell you more."

"Okay. Male or female?"

"Less pronounced orbital ridges and mastoid process and small external occipital protuberance. I'd say female."

"Okay. Can you tell me how old she was?"

"The second molars have come in but not the third ones, so I would say late teens or early twenties. Facial features indicate Hispanic ethnicity. I'll need to take it back to the lab for a closer examination to know more."

"Any idea of the cause of death?"

"Blunt force trauma to the head." Brennan held the skull up and pointed out a web of cracks emanating from a single point.

"Okay, Bones. Why don't you and I go talk to the rest of the people on the boat and then take this back to the lab to see what you guys can get off of it."

An hour later, they had found out no additional information from their interviews with the crew members. As they got into the car, Booth glanced at the sky. Gray clouds obscured the light from the sun, so it appeared to be dusk. "Before we stop for lunch, I want to pick up the boys from the daycare center," Booth said.

"Why? It's not even noon," Brennan said, glancing at her watch.

"Parker hates thunderstorms. When he was two, he and Rebecca were out in one, and a tree close to them was struck by lightning. It fell only a few feet away from him. If he hears thunder or sees lightning now, he freaks out. Rebecca and I are the only ones who can calm him down."

"Where are they supposed to go?"

"They can wait in your office. I have some more paperwork to finish, so I'll stay there with them while you finish doing whatever it is that you do."

"Why can't you just take them to the Hoover Building with you?"

"I don't think Cullen will appreciate that. Besides, they'll have more fun at the Jeffersonian. And this way, I'm right there when you make one of your brilliant deductions."

They pulled into the parking lot of the daycare center just as the first crash of thunder sounded. The rain had still not started, and the clouds hung low in the sky, appearing weighed down by the moisture within them. As soon as Booth walked into the classroom, Parker's frantic eyes found him, and the small boy shot across the room, heedless of the toys scattered around the floor. He stumbled on a large truck, but Booth had already stepped toward him, and he caught Parker just before he hit the ground. Parker's arms son encircled Booth's neck, and he buried his head in his father's shoulder. Supporting Parker with a single arm just beneath his hips, Booth used his free hand to rub his back gently. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "Daddy's here. Nothing's going to hurt you."

By that time, the teacher had reached Booth's side. "Agent Booth, I didn't expect you so early," she said.

"Well, I know how he gets with thunderstorms, and I just wanted to make sure I was with him," Booth explained. "I'm going to go ahead and take him now if that's okay."

"Of course. We'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Parker." Parker's only response to the teacher was to tighten his hold on his father's neck.

They stopped at a drive through for lunch before heading back to the Jeffersonian. When they walked into the lab, Parker was still huddled against his father's shoulder, sucking his thumb. Thunder still boomed outside, and Parker refused to leave his father's arms, even for a moment. "Hey, the munchkins are here!" Hodgins said from the central platform. He stepped off of it and walked over to Booth and Parker. When Hodgins raised his hand for a high-five, a peal of thunder sounded. Parker whimpered and turned his head to hide his eyes against Booth's body without removing his thumb from his mouth.

"He's just scared of thunder," Booth explained.

"Perfectly understandable, little man," Hodgins said. "The decibel level of a clap of thunder is-"

"No lectures right now, please, Hodgins. Bones has a skull for you. She should be up in a minute. She was just unbuckling Aaron's carseat; I didn't want to stay in the parking garage with him." Booth nodded down to Parker. "It's bad enough inside."

At that moment, Brennan walked in with a large diaper bag over her shoulder, Aaron's carseat in one hand, and the skull and field kit in the other. Hodgins looked back at Booth who, in addition to Parker, also carried two fast food bags and a cardboard tray with drinks. "You two are like pack mules," Hodgins remarked.

"It's called parenting." Hodgins shook his head as Booth carried Parker into Brennan's office.

"Will you give me a high five?" Hodgins asked, bending down in front of Aaron. The baby scrunched up his face as he regarded Hodgins. "I guess you're probably too young, aren't you buddy? That's okay. I can wait."

"Hodgins, I need you to take these," Brennan said, holding up the skull and field kit. "Go ahead and set up the skull on the exam table. I'm going to eat something and leave Aaron with Booth, and then I'll be back out."

"Yes, ma'am." Hodgins gave a mock-salute and took the skull and field kit from her hands. Shifting Aaron's car seat to her now-free hand, Brennan also disappeared into her office. She found Booth sitting on the couch trying to coax Parker to eat his food.

"Come on, Bub, it's chicken nuggets," Booth said, holding one of the food items in question beside Parker's head.

"There's thunder," Parker protested, his words muffled in Booth's clothes.

"We're inside. It can't hurt you here," Booth assured him. Cautiously, Parker turned his head enough so that one eye was looking at the chicken nugget. "I'll even put honey mustard on it," Booth promised, dipping it in the sauce. Parker considered for a moment before turning his head far enough to grab the chicken nugget and pop it in his mouth. As Parker buried his head against Booth's shoulder again, Booth turned to Brennan. "Your food's right there," he told her, pointing. She nodded in thanks and set Aarons' carrier on the floor beside the couch before grabbing the bag of food and sitting beside him.

"Hey, Parker, do you know what makes thunder?" Brennan questioned. Parker shook his head against Booth's shoulder. "When the lightning comes, it heats up the sky a lot, causing the air to expand and make a loud sound that we call thunder. You can tell how far away a storm is by counting the seconds between the lightning and thunder." A flash of lightning brightened the sky outside, and Brennan began counting. "One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand." The thunder sounded, and Parker's hand grabbed the fabric of Booth's suit. "See, the storm is three miles away, so it can't hurt us. That trick works because light travels faster than sound, so we see lightning before we hear thunder." Parker raised his head slightly, turning it so he could look at her.

"Is that really how far away the storm is, Dr. Bones?"

"It is. Give or take a couple hundred feet."

"What if it gets closer?"

"The Jeffersonian has a lightning rod to protect it."

"What's that?"

"It's a really tall metal pole. Lightning will strike the tallest thing or the thing which conducts electricity the easiest like metal. So the lightning will strike the rod first, and all the electricity will be conducted to the ground, so it can't hurt anything."

"So we're safe?"

"We're safe." Parker looked at her for a moment before seeming to decide that she was telling the truth. He turned his full body so that he was facing her office with his back pressed against Booth's chest. Taking the chicken nuggets and honey mustard from his father, he began to eat. When thunder sounded, Booth could feel the small boy's muscles tense, but he only buried his face again once.

As Brennan finished her lunch, a brilliant white burst of light flashed outside her window followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder. With a squeal, Parker curled himself against Booth. The lights in Brennan's office abruptly extinguished, plunging the four occupants into a semi-darkness. After a few seconds, a couple emergency lights flickered on, and Brennan blinked to allow her pupils to adjust to the murky lighting. "Never a dull moment," Booth remarked, hugging Parker close.

"I need to go check on everyone else."

"I'll come with you," Booth said, standing with Parker. Brennan grabbed Aaron's carrier, and they walked out of the office together. They found Zach and Hodgins standing on the central platform, staring unhappily at the computer screen on which a message blinked, instructing them to turn off the machine as soon as possible. Though all the lab computers had a back-up power supply, it was only intended to give the user enough time to save his or her work and shut down properly. They could do no work on the computers.

Another loud clap of thunder caused Parker's whimpers to turn into full-fledged cries. Booth tried to comfort him, but he would not be consoled. As the cries increased in volume, Angela emerged from her office. "What's going on out here?"

"Parker just doesn't like the storm," Booth explained.

"Me neither. It knocked out my computer. Hey, what's with the strange skull?" All four others turned to the skull and noticed that it glowed faintly. Booth took a step back.

"It's not radioactive, is it?" he questioned.

"We have detectors in here to detect any form of radioactivity," Zach said, walking to the skull so he could examine it more closely.

"The power's off," Booth pointed out, "so they may not work."

"They do not need power."

"Okay. So if it's not radioactive, why is it glowing?"

"I don't know," Zach admitted. "It's likely covered in something phosphorescent such as a microorganism. It could also be a chemical compound, but I cannot say anything for certain without a computer."

Curious, Brennan passed Aaron's carrier to Booth and walked to the platform. When she swiped her card, nothing happened. She tried again with the same result. "The power outage probably knocked out the security system," Hodgins guessed. "You should be able to just walk up here." Cautiously, Brennan took a step forward. Thunder crashed outside moments after her foot touched the ground, and she nearly fell off the platform. Parker's cries had grown almost deafening, and Booth passed Aaron's carrier to Angela to comfort him.

"If the security system is down, anyone can get in," Brennan pointed out, surveying the area surrounding her as if expecting an intruder to suddenly jump out of the shadows.

"Actually, no one can get in, Dr. Brennan," a voice called from above them. Five heads turned to see Cam standing on the balcony, illuminated by a back-up light.

"What are you talking about?" Brennan inquired.

"I just got off the phone with someone in maintenance. It seems the lightning knocked out one of the main transformers on the street, so it'll take awhile to fix."

"What does that have to do with security?" Booth asked.

"Well, it seems that there is no back-up power for the security system, so it automatically goes into lockdown when there's a power outage," Cam explained.

"Lockdown? As in we're stuck here?" Booth asked.

"Yes, Seeley, we're stuck here."

"For how long?" Booth questioned.

"Probably until sometime tomorrow. So get comfortable." With that, Cam turned and disappeared into her office again.

Booth groaned. "What are we going to do for the rest of the night?"

"I need to finish my examination of the skull," Brennan said.

"There's no light, Bones," Booth pointed out.

"I have a flashlight." Brennan reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a large flashlight. Booth watched, shaking his head as she bent over and began examining the skull, jotting down notes from time to time. Zach immediately offered his help, and Hodgins and Angela disappeared together. Knowing Brennan's tendency to become completely immersed in her work, Booth decided to let her be. He walked back into her office with Parker still in one arm and Aaron's carrier in the other.


	5. Chapter 5

When Brennan entered her office an hour later, Parker was fast asleep on the couch, and Aaron was snoozing in his carrier. Booth was sitting at Brennan's desk working through the multitude of paperwork he had to complete. An emergency light directly above the desk allowed him to see well enough to work. "You're going to strain your eyes if you work in this light," Brennan remarked.

"At least I'm not squinting all the time."

"I've told you before, Booth, we don't squint. And I minimize the stress on my eyes by working in a well-lit area."

"Well, I'm done with paperwork for today anyway," Booth said, setting the papers aside. Standing, he stretched. Brennan approached the cabinet beside her desk and opened it, pulling out a large fleece blanket. In a gesture that seemed unusually maternal, Brennan covered Parker with the blanket before smoothing his blond curls out of his face. Booth watched with a smile.

"I guess he finally got over his fear."

"When the storm started to calm down, he did, too. He'll usually nap for a couple hours, so it'll be peaceful for awhile."

"I finished my examination of the skull."

"And?"

"And we found nothing new. Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head like I said initially. It was caused by an object with a right angle and sides at least an inch and a half long. I'd have to test specific objects to figure out more. The victim's Hispanic, like I said originally, and she is between fourteen and twenty. Zach's putting markers on the skull so we can get a face once the power comes back on."

"Good. Then I can run it through missing person's."

"What do we plan on doing until then?"

"I was hoping you would have some ideas. You're the genius."

"But you're the one always talking about having fun."

"Fine. We'll play a game."

"A game? What kind of game?"

"Truth or Dare."

"How do you play?"

"You've never played Truth or Dare?"

"Obviously not or I wouldn't be asking."

"It's a good thing I'm here to teach you about culture, Bones. Truth or Dare is pretty simple. The first person asks the other if they want truth or dare. If the second person says truth, you ask a question and they have to answer honestly. If they say dare, you give them a dare to do."

"I think I understand. Though I don't see a point."

"The point is getting to know one another better and watching the other person make a fool of himself. Now, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Who was the first non-family member you said 'I love you' to?"

"You," Brennan answered quickly.

"Me? You never said it before?"

"I never loved anyone before."

Smiling, Booth leaned over and kissed her. "Your turn," he said when he pulled away.

"Fine. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Brennan thought for a moment. "I dare you to stop calling us squints."

"That's not a dare," Booth objected.

"Sure it is. It's something I want you to do."

"But a dare is supposed to be something stupid or embarrassing. Like making me walk through the lab naked."

"Why would I tell you to do that?"

Booth threw up his hands. "Never mind, Bones. I give up. I'll accept your dare. Now, truth or dare."

"Dare, I guess."

"Okay. I dare you to make love to me in your office."

"Are you serious? Parker and Aaron are right here!"

"Not now, Bones. But sometime in the near future."

"Why would we do that anyway?"

"It's fun."

"Someone could walk in at any time."

"That's part of the fun. The danger."

"I fail to see the amusement."

"Of course you do, Bones. Just trust me on this one."

"I still don't understand."

Booth placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her words. "You don't have to understand, Bones. It's a dare. That means you have to do it, no matter what. I believe it's now your turn to ask."

"Fine. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"How many women have you slept with?"

Booth's eyes widened with surprise. Of all the questions he had expected, that had not been one of them. He looked over and saw that she was still watching him carefully, waiting for an answer. Swallowing hard, he finally spoke. "Seven."

"Seven. That's all?"

Now, Booth was irritated. He had not intended for the game to give her more ammunition to make fun of him. "Yes, Bones, that's all. Contrary to what you seem to think, I don't sleep around. I like to be in a committed relationship before I sleep with someone."

"Who were they?"

"You can't ask another question until it's your turn again."

"Why not?"

"It's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"The rules of Truth or Dare."

"I haven't seen any rules."

"They're unwritten." Brennan's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Okay, Bones, I'll make a deal. I'll answer your question if you answer one of mine first. Honestly, of course."

"I guess that's only fair."

"Who have you slept with?"

"You want the names of all my partners?"

"That's the idea, yes."

"There was Jacob Weaver my sophomore year in college. Then John Robeck, Ricky Jameston, Kyle Southerton, Michael, who you know, Chris Stevenson, John Clark, and. . ." Brennan paused for a moment. "Alex Jacobs, that was his name. Lian Peters next, then Michael again, and now you, of course."

"Ten," Booth said when she finished.

"Yes. Does that bother you, Booth?"

"No. . . I'm just processing."

"Well, I assure you that I have not contracted any diseases."

Booth laughed in spite of himself. "Good to know, Bones. But that wasn't really what was bugging me."

"What was bugging you?"

"Don't worry about it, Bones."

Brennan studied him carefully. "You don't like that I've had more partners than you," she declared.

"No, that's not what-"

"I guess I understand," Brennan continued, ignoring him. "You want to be the one with the most experience. It's part of your alpha male personality."

"Didn't you want me to answer a question?" Booth asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Yes. I just wanted to know who you had slept with."

"Well, the first person was my high school girlfriend. Her name was Alicia Montgomery. After high school, I went into the army and then to college. I had two steady girlfriends in college—June Rivers and Michelle Larson. There was also a party where I got a bit drunk and ended up sleeping with a girl I barely knew. Her first name was Caitlyn; I never got her last name because we were both pretty embarrassed and avoided one another after that. Then there was Rebecca and Cam. A few months after I broke up with Cam, I met you."

"So you never slept with anyone after you met me?"

"Nope."

"But we weren't dating. You could have."

"I didn't want to." Impulsively, Brennan leaned forward and kissed him. Caught by surprise, he fell over so that he was lying on his back, and Brennan moved to lay on top of him with her lips still pressed tightly to his. After a minute or so, a cry broke them both apart. Brennan looked over at Aaron, her breathing labored.

"He probably needs changing," she said.

"If you'll take care of him, I'll take the other one." Booth nodded to Parker who was beginning to stir, awaken by the cries. Nodding, Brennan stood up to retrieve a clean diaper from the bag.

"Are we going home, Daddy?" Parker questioned.

"Not tonight, Bub. We're going to spend the night at the Jeffersonian. It'll be just like a camp out."

"Okay," Parker agreed. "Can we race bugs?"

"Sure, Bub, just let me go find Zach and Hodgins."

After a couple intense bug races (one of which Parker won), Booth and Parker rejoined Brennan in her office. She was pacing the room with Aaron on her shoulder, softly singing. "What are you singing, Bones?" Booth inquired.

"Just a song my mother used to sing to me."

"What song?"

"'Your Song'."

"I didn't know you were an Elton John fan, Bones."

"My mother used to love him."

"Well, keep singing. It sounds nice."

"I don't want an audience."

"It's just me and Parker, Bones. Come on," Booth cajoled.

"Fine. But you can't tease me later."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Bones."

"And you can tell everybody this is your song," Brennan sang. "It may be quite simple but now that it's done/ I hope you don't mind/ I hope you don't mind that I put down into words/ How wonderful life is while you're in the world."

Booth smiled as she finished the chorus. It was not a typical lullaby, but he had learned that Brennan did nothing which could be considered typical. "You have a beautiful voice, Bones," he complimented. "Do you do everything well?"

"Not everything."

"True. I seem to remember your abysmal basketball skills."

"Daddy, what are we doing now?" Parker questioned.

"Do you want to review the bones of the body?" Brennan asked. Parker nodded excitedly, and she walked over to a large storage cabinet in the corner that Booth had never seen her open. "Okay. I've got something better than your dad for you to use as a model." She pulled out her keys and shuffled through them for a moment before finding the one she was searching for. Carefully, she inserted it into the small lock and turned it. When she opened the door, Booth and Parker leaned closer to see what mystery lay within it. As soon as Booth glimpsed the object inside, he moved back, pulling Parker with him.

"I'm not sure if that's appropriate for a four-year-old, Bones."

"Why not? People use representatives of them all the time for decorations. At least this one is anatomically correct."

"What is it, Daddy?" Parker questioned, trying to escape his father's grasp so he could take a closer look at the contents of the closet.

"Bones, I'm still not sure."

"Booth, it's just like dinosaur bones."

"Except it's not. It's a human skeleton."

"A human skeleton? Cool!" Parker broke free of his father's grasp and rushed forward. "Is it real?" he questioned as soon as he could clearly see the bones hanging in the cabinet.

"It is."

"Where'd you get it?"

"One of my friends from the university gave it to me."

"So this is what's in my body?"

"More or less. Your bones are still a good bit smaller, obviously. And you still have more than 206 since not all of yours have fused together yet."

"Can I touch it?"

"If you're very careful." Gingerly, Parker reached out and placed his index finger on the skeleton at the top part of the femur.

"It's so smooth," he observed.

"Well, these bones have been carefully cleaned. It's a nearly perfect skeleton."

"Nearly perfect? Why nearly?" Booth questioned.

"It's missing vertebra C6," Brennan told him. She pulled the bar from which the skeleton was hanging, and it slid smoothly out of the closet. Brennan pointed to the spine where a small piece of plastic had replaced the vertebra. "It was like that when I received it," she explained. "No one knows what happened to it."

"Well, you two enjoy your squint time," Booth said. "I'm going to go play with Aaron." Walking over to the baby, he spun Aaron in the air, smiling when he heard the baby giggle. Brennan watched them interact for a moment, thinking of how sad it was that Booth had missed out on so much of Parker's childhood. He was a great father. He seemed to instinctively know what to do, no matter the circumstances. He could make Parker laugh when he was feeling sad, calm him when he was terrified, and soothe him when he was hurt. Actually, Brennan realized with a start, he could do the same things with her. Even just seeing Booth could put a smile on her face. He was her partner, her best friend, and the man she loved. He was everything.

When Parker grew bored of identifying bones, Brennan asked Angela for some paper and colored pencils and set him up at her desk so he could draw. "We've got about half an hour before he gets bored of that," Booth said, watching as Parker's brow furrowed while he concentrated on his drawing.

"We've got a few more toys in the diaper bag."

"Actually, I have another idea. Do you have any tarps?"

"Tarps? Why?"

"You'll see. Do you have any?"

"Maybe in the storage closet."

"Good. I'll be back in a minute."

When Booth returned, he was carrying two large blue tarps. He set them on the floor beside the couch, still refusing to offer an explanation. Instead, he walked over and sat at the desk across from Parker, complimenting his son on the drawing which depicted a large beetle almost exactly like the ones Hodgins and Zach raced. Booth watched as Parker carefully drew the antennae, making them curl slightly at the end just as the ones on the real bug did. After also adding two large, black eyes, Parker studied the picture carefully, trying to determine whether or not he had missed something. Once he decided that the drawing was complete, he set it aside and turned to his father. "What are we doing now, Daddy?" he questioned.

"Well, I thought since we're going to be camping out here tonight, we need a tent," Booth said.

"But we don't have one."

"That's why we're going to make one." Booth gestured to the two large tarps. Brennan, who had walked over to stand beside him, raised her eyebrows.

"How are you going to build a tent out of two tarps?" she inquired.

"You'll see, Bones," Booth promised.

As Cam walked past Brennan's office ten minutes later, she heard laughter inside. Curious, Cam pushed open the door without bothering o knock. After all, it was her lab. She had a right to know everything that happened in it.

When Cam saw Brennan's office, her mouth fell open in surprise. Brennan's chair had been pulled in front of her desk so that it could hold one side of a large blue tarp against the wood. The couch had been turned and stripped of its cushions. The other side of the tarp was tucked into the small gap between the back of the couch and the seat. Booth was lying on the floor near the door with a second tarp wrapped around his legs. He was glaring at Brennan who stood a few feet away, laughing. When they heard the door open, both automatically turned to face it. Cam saw Booth's hand twitch in the direction of his holster and Brennan's spine stiffen.

"What on earth are you doing?" Cam questioned.

"We're building a tent," Parker declared proudly, emerging from beneath the elevated blue tarp.

"Parker, what are you doing here?" Cam inquired.

"The same thing the rest of us are doing," Booth said before Parker could answer. "Waiting for the power to come back on so we can leave."

"Has he been here the whole time?"

"Of course. There's no way he could've gotten in later," Brennan pointed out.

"Dr. Brennan, you know the lab is no place for children. There's a lot of expensive equipment which can break easily."

"Then I'll replace it." Brennan waved her of.

"Parker's a good kid," Booth objected. "He wouldn't break anything."

"Accidents happen, Seeley."

"I'd prefer Agent Booth, thank you." Booth had untangled himself and stood in front of Cam, his eyes blazing. Realizing that he was furious, Cam stepped away, slowly backing out of the doorway.

"Just keep an eye on him."

"That's exactly what we plan on doing."

"Well, have. . . fun," Cam said, looking critically at the crude tent.

"We plan on doing that, too." Booth shut the door behind Cam as she left, turning back to Brennan who had crouched on the ground beside Parker. "So, let's finish this puppy," he said, holding up the second tarp.

Thirty minutes later, they sat on the sofa cushions beneath their makeshift tent. Though it was not the prettiest thing in the world, Parker loved it, and Booth and Brennan cared about nothing else. "I'm hungry, Daddy," Parker complained suddenly, looking up from the cars he had been playing with.

"Okay, Bub, let's go to the break room and see what we can find."

They found Angela, Hodgins, and Zach sitting around the single metal table in the center of the break room. "Hey guys, what have you been up to?" Angela asked with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.

"We made a tent!" Parker announced proudly.

"That sounds fun. Are you sleeping there tonight?" Angela asked.

"Yeah! We put pillows under it and everything."

"Cool. So I assume you guys came for food," Hodgins said.

"Uh-huh," Parker confirmed.

"Well, you're in luck. We've got half a leftover pizza from yesterday, some spaghetti that Angela brought today, two turkey sandwiches, meat loaf, and a bunch of sodas. Take your pick. But you're going to have to eat it cold. The microwave won't work."

"Pizza!" Parker exclaimed.

"I figured that would be your choice," Booth said, laughing. He placed a slice of pizza on a paper plate and handed it to Parker. As Parker began to eat, he fixed himself a plate from the variety of food on the table. Brennan brought in three apples, two bananas, and two oranges which Booth cut up and placed on a plate in the center of the table as he waited for the other three to finish fixing their food. Once he had his food and sat down, Brennan reached over with a fork and grabbed a piece of his meatloaf. He swatted her hand away. "Get your own food, Bones."

"I can't. I've got Aaron." She nodded down to the baby resting in her arms who was sucking contentedly at his bottle.

"Fine." Booth sighed and rose to his feet to fix her a plate. As soon as he stood, she stole an apple slice from his plate. He glared at her, but his eyes still possessed the twinkle which told her that he was not truly angry. Smiling slyly, he began to put food on another plate and placed it in front of her. Before he sat down, he grabbed a piece of pepperoni off her pizza, smiling cheekily. "Payback," he told her.

In the end, both ate more food off the other's plate than off their own. When they reached the last bite of spaghetti on Brennan's plate, both reached for it. Their plastic forks hit each other with a click, and Booth immediately pulled his away. "It's all yours, Bones. Unless you feel up to a _Lady and the Tramp _moment."

"What?" Brennan questioned as Angela squealed.

"Oh, you two totally should. It would be so cute!"

"I still have no idea what you're talking about," Brennan said. Instead of responding, Booth regarded her curiously. After a couple seconds, he lifted the spaghetti onto his fork without bothering to roll it, so noodles hung down, waving wildly as he moved the pasta to her mouth.

"Open up," he commanded.

"Booth, what-" Before the words could leave her mouth, he inserted the fork into her partially open mouth, extracting it quickly. The stray noodles now hung down over her lower lip, covering her chin with sauce. She stared at him for a moment, too shocked to respond. Leaning forward, he used his tongue to swipe the stray noodles into his mouth as he pressed his lips to hers. Okay, it was not exactly _Lady and the Tramp, _but it was close.


	6. Chapter 6

Part of Brennan's mind told her to pull away. After all, she had not yet told Hodgins and Zach about her emerging relationship with Booth, and she certainly had not planned on them finding out in this way. Besides, she did not want an audience while she kissed. Despite her logical objections, however, Brennan did not pull away. Her rational thoughts could not stop the emotions which flooded her body when she felt his lips on hers. She moved closer so that their legs were pressing against each other. His tongue parted her lips and traveled inside her mouth. He tasted of spaghetti and apples and something else which Brennan could not name but which she had come to associate with him.

Eventually, they pulled apart. They still sat close, staring at one another until a cough from across the table caused them to turn. Zach was regarding them as he would regard a particularly puzzling set of remains, and Hodgins was staring at them with his mouth partially open. Angela had her hands clasped tightly together, obviously trying to contain a squeal. Finally, Hodgins spoke, "Dude, you better not try to feed us that 'just partners' line now," he warned.

"I guess we should explain," Booth said, looking at Brennan who did not offer any comments. "You see, Bones and I have been dating for about three and a half weeks now," he continued. This time, Angela could not contain the squeal.

Hodgins quickly did the math. "The Gravedigger?"

"That was the impetus for our relationship," Booth admitted, marveling at how spending time with Brennan had impacted every part of his life, including his vocabulary. He was reluctant to explain the details of their capture, knowing that the threat of death had affected them more than either would admit.

"Well, congratulations, man, it's about time!" Hodgins exclaimed.

"You're just happy that you won the pool," Angela said.

"Pool?" Brennan questioned.

"Sure. The pool on when you two would get together," Hodgins explained.

"I bet it would take six months," Zach grumbled.

"That's better than Cam. She said it would never happen."

"You guys bet on us?" Booth asked incredulously.

"Why not?" Hoskins shrugged, accepting money from Zach and Angela. "When we get out of here, we'll all go out to breakfast. Or lunch, depending on what time it is. My treat." He held up his winnings.

"Can I get pancakes?" Parker inquired.

"Sure, Little Man. As long as your dad says it's okay."

After dinner, Parker, Booth, Brennan, and Aaron retired to their tent. Booth sat a flashlight up in the center, calling it their campfire. He suggested they tell scary stories, and Parker enthusiastically agreed. After reminding Brennan not to point out the scientific impossibility of any of the stories, he began to tell a ghost story, lowering his voice eerily.

Brennan woke the next morning to feel Parker curled against her back. Booth's arm was draped across both of them, and its steady weight reassured Brennan. Usually, she would not spend an entire night with a man. After she slept with someone, she would find an excuse—typically an early day at work—to return to her own apartment where she would wake up alone in her own bed. With Booth, however, she was finding excuses to stay with him. She liked to wake up next to him in the morning, to hear his steady breathing as she drifted off at night.

Carefully, Brennan moved off of the cushions that formed their bed and walked to the door. When she flipped the light switch, nothing happened. Sighing, she retrieved a protein bar and her laptop from her desk. She needed to finish the next chapter of her book soon, for her editor had been asking for it for quite some time. Unfortunately, Brennan was having some difficulty continuing the story. She had reached an impasse, and she could not figure out how to proceed.

As Brennan stared at the screen, she suddenly felt two hands on her shoulders. She tensed for a moment before a familiar scent enveloped her, and she knew it was Booth. His fingers slowly began to massage her shoulders, loosening her tight muscles. Brennan relaxed almost immediately, allowing her head to fall back against him. While his fingers began to work their magic, he knelt behind her and kissed the back of her neck. After a few minutes, a small voice behind them caused them both to turn. "Daddy, Dr. Bones, where are you?" Parker called.

"Right here, Bub," Booth said, walking over to his son.

"Can we go home now?"

"Not now, Bub. Soon though. While we wait, why don't we break down our tent and then we can continue our reading lesson?"

It was after 11:00 when the power finally came back on. Booth had called both Cullen and the boys' daycare teachers to tell them what had happened. As promised, Hodgins treated them all to brunch, and Parker still ate his pancakes despite the late hour. When they returned to the lab, Angela began to work on putting a face on their victim as Hodgins and Zach attempted to identify the glowing substance on the skull. Brennan finished typing up her notes from the previous day as she watched Parker and Aaron.

Out on the platform, Booth waited for the drawing of the face Angela was finishing, half-listening as Hodgins and Zach argued about the identity of the glowing substance. "I'm just saying, I doubt it's mineral," Hodgins said.

"Some minerals do glow," Zach argued.

"Oh yeah? Name one."

"White phosphorus."

"It doesn't exist naturally. And besides, it's thermodynamically unstable. It tends to self-ignite when exposed to oxygen. Trust me, if that skull was covered with white phosphorus, we wouldn't be standing here right now."

"What do you think it is?"

"Something organic, most likely. There are a couple phosphorescent microorganisms on decaying wood. Although I guess it would make more sense for them to be dinoflagellates since she was found in the ocean." At that moment, the computer beeped. Hodgins glanced over at it before throwing his arms in the air happily. "I'm King of the Lab!" he announced.

"I thought we agreed that no one would have that title."

"That was before I understood my true genius." Hodgins pointed to the computer screen. "_Noctiluca miliaris,_" he said. "Also known as _Noctiluca scintillans_. It's a luminescent dinoflagellate."

"Does that tell us anything?" Booth asked, entering the conversation abruptly. If he had evidence or, better yet, a suspect to find, he might stop feeling so useless.

"Maybe. Most red tides of this type of algae occur in the Gulf of Mexico area, so I'd say that's where our victim's body originated from."

"How long would it take to reach DC?"

"Well, the Gulf Stream runs from Florida up along the East Coast. At the surface, the water in that current moves about 1.8 m/s on average. If the body got stuck in that relatively quickly, it could have reached the Chesapeake Bay in around three weeks. Of course, the body might have floated awhile before it was found. Basically, I can't give you an exact time frame. I would stick with the one Brennan gave you earlier. It's about as close as you're going to get."

"Great. So basically this gets me nowhere."

"Not nowhere. We now know that the victim likely disappeared somewhere on the Gulf coast," Hodgins said. "Since Brennan says she's Hispanic, my best guess would be somewhere in Florida."

"Okay, now I just need a face."

"Right here!" Angela called from behind him. Whirling, Booth grabbed the piece of paper from her.

"Great. Thanks, Angela. I'm going to run this through Missing Person's. Tell Bones I'm picking her and the boys up at 4:30 so I can take Parker to karate."

"Why don't you tell her?"

"The last time I opened that door, she nearly bit my head off," he said, nodding to Brennan's office. "I'll see you guys later."

Two hours later, Booth returned to the Jeffersonian. He found Brennan squinting at something unidentifiable on the computer monitor in the central platform. She held Aaron in one arm as her other fiddled with the settings on the computer. "Where's Parker?" Booth questioned, suddenly alarmed.

"Angela has him." Brennan looked up at him and then at the clock on her computer. She frowned. "Angela said you would be back at 4:30," she said.

"Well, it took me less time than I thought to find our victim." He opened a file folder on top of the computer. A pretty, dark-skinned girl in her early twenties smiled up at Brennan from a picture at the front of the file. "Lola Rivera, age 21," he said. "She disappeared from her house in St. Petersburg, Florida eight months ago."

"Are you sure it's her?"

"I'm still waiting for dental records to confirm it, but her picture is almost identical to Angela's drawing."

"So are we going to Florida then?"

"Nope. It seems her family decided there were too many painful memories where they were, so they moved to Virginia. It's only about an hour and a half drive."

"Okay. Let's go."

"Parker and Aaron," Booth reminded her.

"We'll take them with us."

"Or we'll wait and go tomorrow. Besides, we've got to go see that stupid shrink in half an hour."

"Shrink? What shrink?"

"I told you that Cullen was making us see a shrink. Remember?"

"Yes, but I specifically said to schedule the appointment during lunch. And you need to give me some advance notice because I cannot just drop everything and go whenever you want."

"You were about to drop everything to interview suspects."

"That's different."

"I don't see how."

"Booth, just reschedule the appointment."

"I can't. Cullen set it up. I was just informed of it an hour ago."

"Does he really think he can just schedule appointments for someone else and expect them to be there at a moment's notice?"

"He's my boss. He can do whatever he wants."

"He's not my boss. He can't order me around!"

"Bones, do you want to continue working together?"

"Of course, but-"

"No buts. If you don't want Cullen to split us up, you better come see the shrink with me now. I'll go get Parker and the boys' stuff while you finish up here. I'll be back in three minutes. You better be ready."

"Fine. But we can't schedule the next appointment during the work day."

"I'll do my best, Bones. Now, get moving."

Thirty minutes later, they were sitting in the cramped waiting room outside the psychiatrist's office. The walls were painted a pale yellow that someone thought would be comforting. Brennan thought the yellow simply gave the room an empty, hollow feel. And indeed it was empty. Booth, Brennan, and the boys were the only people in the pink, unyielding chairs of the waiting room. Wanting something to do, Brennan rifled through the stack of magazines on one of the end tables. She did not recognize any of the titles, and none of them seemed particularly interesting. She wished she had thought to bring her anthropology journals.

Booth began to squirm almost as soon as they sat down. Partly, he was nervous; he did not want to inadvertently say something which would make the psychiatrist split up him and Brennan. Also, he could not find a comfortable position in the chair; he felt as if he was sitting on a bag of marbles. Booth had always hated psychiatrists. He always felt that they were silently judging him—which, in fact, they probably were, for judging others was part of their judge description. And psychiatrists always seemed to find problems with people. They could never simply say, "You're definitely sane and free to go." No, everyone had some form of paranoia or dementia or some disease that no normal person could ever pronounce but which basically amounted to "nothing's really wrong with you, but I need to justify the hefty fees I charge."

Unable to sit still any longer, Booth joined Parker on the floor. The small boy offered his father a red car, and Booth accepted the toy with a smile. As he began to "race" Parker across the rough carpet, a door in the back opened suddenly. Booth and Brennan both turned quickly, and Booth saw a man standing in the now open doorway. Actually, Booth was not sure if "man" was an accurate word to describe the person in the doorway; he looked to be barely out of high school. His dark hair lay messily on his head, and his lips curved into a crooked smile when he saw the occupants of his waiting room. "You must be Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan," he said, looking from Booth to Brennan. "I'm Dr. Lawrence Sweets."

"Dr? How old are you, kid? Sixteen?" Booth questioned, pushing himself to his feet as he handed the car back to Parker.

Sweets' smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. "I'm actually twenty-five, Agent Booth," he said, regarding the older man carefully.

"Could've fooled me, Doogie Howser."

"Excuse me?" Sweets questioned.

Booth looked from Sweets to Brennan, both of whom had similar looks of confusion on their faces. "Never mind. Let's get this thing over with."

"Do I detect a hint of bitterness, Agent Booth?" Sweets asked.

"I hope you detect more than a hint, Sweets."

"I'd prefer Dr. Sweets."

"Well, I like Sweets better. It's more childlike. It fits you."

"Agent Booth, you should probably not try to antagonize me."

"I'll do whatever I want, Sweets."

"Well then." Sweets cleared his throat, a bit taken-aback. "If you two will follow me into my office, we can get started." Booth bent down and helped Parker repack his toys in the diaper bag. As he grabbed Parker's hand and turned toward the door, Sweets glanced nervously at the small boy. "Uh. . . is he coming with you?"

"Do you have another idea?"

"No, I just. . . didn't expect you to have kids."

"Well, you should learn to expect the unexpected." Booth reached his free hand out and wrapped it around Brennan's waist as she lifted Aaron's carrier. They both followed Sweets through the door into a small, garishly furnished room. A brightly colored sofa sat across from a single, large, Hawaiian-printed armchair. The walls were painted a blue which was so bright that it hurt Booth's eyes. "Nice office," Booth remarked.

"The decorations seem slightly puerile," Brennan observed.

"It helps people feel comfortable, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said.

"It makes my head hurt," Booth said.

"Well, Agent Booth, I'm sorry, but I can't change the design of my office for one patient," Sweets said in a strained voice.

"Let's just get this party started," Booth said dryly. Parker, who was perched on his father's lap, squirmed until Booth released him, allowing him to dig through the diaper bag until he found his toys.

"As you likely know, I have been assigned to evaluate whether you two will continue to be effective as partners despite your developing relationship." He glanced quickly at Aaron and Parker. "If you don't mind me asking, are they," he gestured at the boys, "yours?"

"No," Booth said quickly.

"Why would you make that assumption?" Brennan questioned. "Since you've been assigned to evaluate us, I would think that you've read our files. And if you have, you would know that Booth and I did not begin working together until a year and a half ago. Since Parker is nearly five, that would make it virtually impossible-"

"Parker is my son from a previous relationship," Booth interrupted. "And Aaron is the son of one of our victims. Bones kindly took him in so that he was not lost in the foster system like so many others."

"So you two don't have any children?"

"I don't believe in bringing children into this world," Brennan said quickly. "Besides, Booth and I have only been s-" Booth's hand muffled her words. She looked at him, and he glanced pointedly at Parker.

"Okay then. Agent Booth, what is your opinion on this matter?"

"I honestly have no strong opinions either way. I mean, I'd like more children, but I'd be happy with just Parker and Aaron. And Bones, of course. I mean, I don't need the picket fence and 2.5 kids. I have my family." He looked at the three people surrounding him, the three people he loved more than life itself. Parker was still playing with his superhero figurine on the floor. Brennan was staring at him curiously, and Aaron gurgled as he grabbed the air.

"That's very sweet, Agent Booth."

"Will you use that term in your report, Sweets? 'Agent Booth seems like a very sweet man. Perhaps I'll invite him to my next Tupperware party.'"

"I'm not sure if I like your tone, Agent Booth."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not as sweet as you seem to think."

"Dr. Brennan, what do you think about Agent Booth's sentiment?"

"It's fairly typical of him," Brennan declared. She had adopted the no-nonsense tone she always used when examining a set of remains. "Booth is often rather sentimental. He's fiercely devoted to his family and believes it is the most important thing in this life. It's actually an admirable trait. If more men had a protective instinct similar to his, perhaps there would not be so many abandonments."

"So you agree with Agent Booth's sentiment?"

"I'm learning to. I've never been a family person."

"Any particular reason?"

Booth saw Brennan stiffen out of the corner of his eye, and he immediately intervened. "We're not here so you can dig through our past, Sweets." Booth placed a calming hand on Brennan's shoulder and squeezed gently. She relaxed slightly, subconsciously moving closer to him. Automatically, Booth moved his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Sweets watched the exchange with interest and made a note in his chart.

"So have you two been dating long now?" Sweets asked.

"About three and a half weeks," Booth answered.

"Actually, that's not entirely accurate," Brennan objected. "I mean, dating by definition would mean we had to go on a date, so that would mean we've been dating closer to three weeks."

"We got pizza together," Booth reminded her.

"But that was not technically a date. We ate lunch and dinner together plenty of times before that when we were just partners."

"We kissed, Bones."

"That still does not make it a date."

"It certainly makes it more than dinner between partners."

"You cannot prove one theory simply by disproving another. There are plenty of other scenarios-"

"Name one."

"We were simply discussing our relationship."

"That's a date."

"Do you two do this often?" Sweets inquired before Brennan could respond. Startled, they turned, having forgotten he was present.

"Debating is an essential part of our daily work," Brennan defended. "It helps us to think more clearly and allows us to see a case from two different perspectives which contributes to our high success rate."

"And how does this arguing affect your relationship?"

This time, Booth answered. "It makes us stronger. We're two different people with very different opinions, but opposites attract. At the end of the day, we both win." Sweets scribbled something else on his notepad.

"I noticed you call Dr. Brennan 'Bones.' Any reason?"

"She works with bones," Booth answered simply.

"But it doesn't seem very. . . affectionate."

"Maybe not to you. But Bones fits her better than Babe or Honey or Sweetheart. Besides, she'd kick my a-butt if I called her any of these."

"Why?"

"Because those names are degrading to women," Brennan told Sweets.

"You seem to have a number of strong opinions, Dr. Brennan."

"I was not aware that was a bad thing."

"How does that affect your relationship with Agent Booth?"

"Well, we butt shoulders a lot."

"Heads, Bones," Booth corrected.

"We head shoulders? That makes no sense."

"No, we butt heads."

"Oh."

Twenty long minutes later, Sweets finally let them go. He likely would have kept them longer, but Aaron had started to cry, and Parker was complaining about his hunger. Sweets did not seem too comfortable around children, especially upset children, so he had quickly ushered them to the door. As they left, he made Booth promise to call and set up an appointment for the following week.

"Must we come back next week?" Brennan questioned.

"It's Cullen's order. Trust me, I don't like it either."


	7. Chapter 7

They took Parker to his karate lessons, staying to watch as he practiced. Parker's instructor looked slightly surprised to see Booth dropping him off. "Is Rebecca okay?" the instructor asked.

"She's fine," Booth assured the man. "But she's having some problems, so I'll probably be dropping Parker off from now on. And picking him up. Actually, I wanted to make sure you only release Parker to me from now on. Or Dr. Brennan." Booth gestured to Brennan.

The instructor glanced at Brennan, and his eyes widened. "You're Dr. Temperance Brennan?" He shook her hand enthusiastically. "I love your books. They just all seem so real."

"Thank you." Brennan was still unused to her position as a nationally-known author, and she did not know how to respond to fans.

"It's so exciting, meeting you like this."

"Uh-huh." Brennan wished he would release her hand.

"So you know who can pick Parker up, right?" Booth asked.

"Yes." The instructor finally released Brennan's hand and turned to Booth. "Is something wrong, Agent Booth?"

"It's nothing we can't handle. Thank you."

"Of course. I'll see you in a couple hours."

They sat in a couple folding chairs in the corner, discussing the case. From time to time, one of them would glance up at Parker. He usually did not notice when their gazes shifted to him, for his face was typically screwed up in concentration as he tried to execute a particularly difficult move. On one such occasion, Booth watched as the small boy leapt into the air, his foot forward. Unfortunately, he was still unsure of how to land, and he ended up falling to the mat as he came back down. As usual, he was back up in a matter of seconds, ready to try again. Booth smiled at his son's persistence.

"Did you know she was married?" Brennan questioned suddenly.

"Who?"

Brennan tapped the file. "Lola Rivera."

"Yeah. I figured we'd interview the husband first."

"You always think it's the husband."

"I didn't say it was the husband. I just want to hear what he has to say."

"I really don't understand this fixation of yours on husbands or boyfriends. I mean, statistically speaking, it's not-"

Booth stopped her lips with his. "I'm not saying it's the husband, okay Bones?" he said as he pulled back. "And I do not have a fixation on anything. Well, except for you, of course." He shot her a charm smile, that one that could make her anger melt away no matter how tenaciously she clung to it.

After practice, Parker ran over to Booth and Brennan. "How'd I do?" he questioned.

"You did great, Bub," Booth enthused.

"Your kicks should be somewhat higher," Brennan remarked. "A well-placed kick should be at the stomach or higher."

"Like this?" Parker kicked the air, bringing his foot to just below his waist level.

"Almost. Here, I'll show you." Brennan stood and motioned for Booth to do the same.

"No way, Bones," he protested. "I'm not letting you kick me."

"I won't actually kick you. I just want to show Parker around where his foot should end up on someone else's body."

"Fine. But if you actually kick me, you won't be going out into the field for a long time." Booth stood and faced Brennan.

"Okay. Are you watching, Parker?" The small boy nodded. "So you need to bring your leg above your waist and let it move straight out so that it ends up around the center of your opponent's chest." Brennan's leg shot up so fast that Booth barely had time to register what was happening. He backed up a couple steps automatically. "I told you I wouldn't kick you, Booth," Brennan said, her foot still in the air.

"I know. I was just reacting instinctively." Booth stepped forward again and grasped her foot between his hands. "You know, this move makes it quite easy for me to flip you. If we were fighting for real, of course."

"If we were fighting for real, you wouldn't have time to grab my foot."

"Oh yeah? Try me." He released her foot, and she placed it back on the ground.

"What?"

"Try to kick me. For real, this time. We'll see if I can flip you."

"Booth, this is ridiculous! I'm not fighting you."

"Oh, come on, Bones. I want to see those amazing karate skills."

"Yeah, Dr. Bones," Parker echoed.

"Fine." Brennan sighed and shucked her jacket, draping it neatly over the chair she had recently vacated before turning back to Booth. Once again, her leg shot out so quickly that he barely had time to react. He managed to stop its momentum just before she knocked the wind out of him, but he had no time to even consider trying to flip her. In less than a second, her body had returned to its original position, and she was ready to fight once more. "I told you that you couldn't flip me," Brennan said. "I have extensive martial arts training. There are very few people who can beat me in a fight." Booth knew she was not bragging; she was simply stating the facts as she always did. He suspected that she was right; few people could beat her in a fight. Still, he could not stop the next words from coming out of his mouth.

"I bet I could beat you."

"I doubt it, Booth."

"We'll never know unless we try."

"Booth, let's just go home."

"One match. First person to keep the other on the ground for ten seconds wins." He saw her wavering, so he added a final incentive. "The loser has to do whatever the winner wants for a week."

"Okay," Brennan finally agreed. "But for the record, I still think this is a bad idea." Brennan watched as he also removed his jacket before unknotting the tie and tugging it off his neck.

"Ready when you are, Bones," he declared, turning back to her. She came at him in a blur of movement, her hand reaching for his head. This time, however, he was ready for her celerity; he quickly deflected her blow before attempting to throw a punch of his own. She also blocked him, and they continued in that manner for a couple minutes, their arms moving so fast they blurred. They were equals in skill, and neither managed to land a punch.

Suddenly, Brennan's knee shot up between Booth's leg. He jumped away quickly, barely managing to keep his manhood. "You fight dirty, Bones."

"There's no such thing as fighting dirty. The point of a fight is to keep the upper hand no matter what it takes."

"So anything goes?"

"If you're fighting for your life, your natural instincts will tell you to do whatever is necessary to survive."

"But you're not fighting for your life."

"You said a real fight. A real fight is fighting for my life." They were slowly circling one another now, allowing their breathing to slow as they talked.

"Still, you might want to stay away from that particular area. It could prove useful to both of us in the future." He smiled cheekily. By this time, a small crowd consisting of many of the students and their parents had gathered around the two partners. Parker was clapping enthusiastically, unsure of whom to cheer for, but most of the others had taken sides.

"I still don't understand today's obsession with violence. It-"

"Bones, just shut up and fight."

With that, they rushed at one another again. This time, their whole bodies were involved, and arms and legs moved so fast that no one in the crowd could keep track of who hit whom. After nearly five minutes of furious fighting, Booth managed to knock Brennan off her feet with a well-placed kick. She fell hard, but they were luckily on the mats set up for karate practice, so she doubted that she attained any injuries more serious than a few minor bruises. She was lying on her stomach, so Booth crouched down over her, holding her hands behind her to pin her to the ground and prevent her from punching him. "One," he began, panting slightly. "Two. Three."

Suddenly, Brennan reared back, knocking him off balance. He released her arms to steady himself, and she immediately turned and moved to pin him down. Quickly, Booth jumped to his feet, and she followed suit. They began circling each other again. "Impressive," Booth remarked.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Thank you."

"Are we done with this pointless fight yet?"

"No one's won." This time, Booth moved first, swinging his leg toward her unprotected side. She deftly deflected the blow before mounting her own attack. Her side hurt like the devil from an earlier blow, but she refused to surrender. Trying to remember everything her karate teacher had ever told her, she distracted Booth with a punch to the left before slamming her foot into his stomach. He doubled over, wheezing, and she quickly pulled his arms behind him and forced him down. He struggled valiantly, but Brennan was strong; she managed to hold on as she pushed him onto his stomach.

"One," she began, pressing her knee into his back to hold him down. "Two. Three." He started to sit up, but she pushed him down with greater force. "Four."

By the time she hit ten, most of the crowd was counting with her. Many of them clapped as Brennan moved off Booth's back and helped him to his feet. "I let you win," he grumbled as he stood.

"Why would you do that?"

"Never mind. C'mere, Bones." Before Brennan could fully process what was happening, he pulled her body flush against his and kissed her fiercely, heedless of the watching crowd. Brennan's arms snaked around his neck, holding him close as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. After a few seconds, he pulled back slightly. "I think it's sexy when you fight me," he said against her mouth, soft enough so that only she could hear. Surprisingly, she made no squinty comment; instead, she simply smiled.

"Daddy, you let a girl beat you!" Parker called, breaking the two apart. A few members of the surrounding crowd chuckled at the small boy.

"Yeah, but it wasn't just any girl. It was Bones."

"So?"

"So she's tougher than most other girls. She's allowed to beat me."

"You admit that you didn't let me win then?" Brennan questioned.

"I said nothing of the sort, Bones. Come on, let's go home."

Parker was still talking about the fight when they reached the apartment that night. Booth herded him into the bathroom to clean up as Brennan began to look through the food in his kitchen to find something to fix for dinner. Booth walked in holding Aaron as she began to dice the chicken. He watched her for a minute, his head cocked to the side, before Brennan turned to him irritably and asked, "What?"

"You're beautiful," he said simply.

"You've said that before."

"And I will continue to say it because it's true."

"Do you have any thyme?"

"Probably." Booth switched Aaron to one shoulder as he rooted through the spice cabinet. He pulled out a small clear bottle after a minute or so and handed it to her. He continued to watch her as she placed the chicken in the pan and began adding vegetables. Aaron gave a loud cry when he realized Booth was no longer paying attention to him, and Booth quickly turned to fix the baby a bottle.

After dinner, Booth helped Parker with his reading while Brennan worked on her next book. She had finally managed to overcome the mental block, so she was working steadily, rarely pausing to think but instead letting the story write itself. Her experience with writing had taught her not to force the story. It always turned out better when she allowed it to flow naturally.

After awhile, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Booth standing behind her. "Parker wants you to help me read his bedtime story," Booth announced. "If you're not too busy, of course."

"No, I'll come." Brennan closed the computer and followed him into the bedroom. In truth, she was busy; she needed to finish the last couple chapters of her book so it could be published soon. But she had learned that sometimes, finishing her work was not the most important thing on her to-do list.


	8. Chapter 8

After dropping the boys off at daycare the following morning, Brennan and Booth made the long drive to Virginia. Booth stopped first at a modern-looking steel building which reached more than twenty stories into the air. Brennan peered up at it curiously. "What are we doing her, Booth?" she questioned.

"Our victim's husband, Carlos Rivera, works here. He's a telemarketer." Booth pushed open the door and walked to the front of the building with Brennan, his arm around her waist. They stopped at the front desk. While Booth asked the receptionist to help him locate Rivera, Brennan glanced around the lobby. It was immense with a ceiling reaching at least two stories. Numerous pathways of white linoleum criss-crossed the floor, leading visitors around large beds of dirt filled with various kinds of plants. Windows covered most of the wall space, making the area appear even larger than it truly was. These windows admitted enough sunlight to make electric lighting unnecessary, but Brennan saw a number of lamps tucked into the foliage for use at night.

"Let's go, Bones," Booth said, suddenly from behind her.

"Did you get a location?" Brennan inquired.

"Yep. And a phone number."

"Why would we need a phone number? We're right here."

"It's not Rivera's phone number."

"Then whose is it?" Booth nodded back toward the receptionist. Brennan frowned. "Why would she give you her phone number?"

"So I can call her."

"But that makes no sense. You two have had one conversation, and it was not even personal. How could you have established a connection that warrants a telephone call in two minutes?"

"Bones, when someone gives you their telephone number, that means they're interested."

"In what?"

"Dating."

"Oh." Brennan was silent for a moment. "I feel as if I should become fiercely territorial and fight her."

"Please don't, Bones."

"I wasn't planning on following through with that action. I was just saying that when faced with this situation, many people feel a need to ensure that no one else thinks about sharing their mate."

"Don't put it like that, Bones."

"Put it like what?"

"Talking about us like mates. It makes us seem like animals."

"Actually, homo sapiens are classified in the animal kingdom."

"I don't care if we're classified in the same place as mushrooms. We're much more than just 'mates,' and you know it."

"Fine, Booth." Brennan was silent as they boarded the empty elevator together. When it began to ascend, she turned to Booth. "Were you. . . interested, too?" she questioned Booth smiled.

"Trust me, Bones. I'm not interested in anyone but you." To prove his point, he held the piece of paper with the receptionist's telephone number in front of him and methodically tore it into pieces. He allowed the small bits of paper to flutter to the ground when he finished.

"Booth, that's littering. You shouldn't-"

"Bones, it was the right thing to do."

Rivera worked in a cubicle which was identical to the other gray boxes surrounding him. Brennan was surprised Booth had found it especially since he had torn up the receptionist's directions. But as soon as they had stepped off the elevator, he had strode straight for the cubicle without taking a wrong turn. "Carlos Rivera?" he asked when he was within a few feet. A long, brown index finger rose up over the top of the cubicle. Booth and Brennan moved closer so they could clearly see the man attached to the finger. Rivera was in his mid-twenties with olive skin that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light. He was quite handsome with doe-like brown eyes, smooth features, and a long, narrow face. His collared shirt and slacks hung loosely on his tall, slender frame, and his black loafers looked like small boats.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI," Booth said, pressing the button on the phone cradle to hang up. "This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We have a few questions to ask you."

"Geez, man, I was just about to make a sale." Rivera glanced up at Booth who had narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Glancing at Booth's muscular frame, Rivera decided he would not win in a fight. "Is somebody else complaining about being on that 'No Call' list? Because I swear, I've not been calling anybody on that list."

"We're here about your wife," Booth said.

Rivera's entire demeanor suddenly changed. He swiveled in his chair to face Booth, his eyes wide with anticipation. "Did you find her?" he inquired.

"I'm afraid so."

Rivera sighed. "Even after all this time, I kept thinking that she might still be alive. I know it's stupid, but it kept me going."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, Mr. Rivera. Can you tell me exactly what happened the day your wife disappeared?" Booth asked.

"I got home from work around 5:00 like I always did. I found a note on the table which said she had gone out to run some errands. I didn't think anything was wrong until a couple hours later. I didn't think anything was wrong until a couple hours later. Lola always got home in time to fix dinner. I called her cellphone because I thought she might just be running late, but she didn't pick up. That's when I really started to worry. I called the cops, but they told me they couldn't do anything for twenty-four hours, so I took matters into my own hands. I went out looking for her. I tried the grocery store, Target, and the clothing store where she liked to shop before I finally found her car outside the Wal-Mart. She wasn't in it or in the store, and I really began to panic. I called the police again; they were slightly more inclined to help me that time. We searched everywhere for her, but nothing turned up."

"Do you remember anything unusual about that day?" Booth questioned. "Was your wife acting strangely or did she do anything out of the ordinary?"

Rivera shook his head emphatically. "No, no, everything was normal."

"Did you or your wife have any enemies?" Brenan asked. Booth glanced over at her; the exact same question had been on the tip of his tongue.

"No, everyone loved Lola. As for me, I usually try not to get on anyone's bad side."

"Usually?"

"Well, Lola's parents and I never really got along."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Partly, they didn't like the fact that I married their daughter when she was only nineteen. It took us nearly six months to convince them that Lola wasn't pregnant. But they also don't like that I'm not religious. They're strict Catholics—go to church every Sunday, pray every night and before each meal, and so on. I grew up with parents similar to them. As soon as I could make my own decisions, I decided that wasn't the life for me. Lola was well on her way to making a similar decision. They still blame me for turning their daughter away from 'the truth.' They think I'm a bad influence."

"Were you having any marital problems?" Booth asked.

"No, everything was just fine."

"Everything is never 'just fine'," Booth remarked.

"We had problems, sure. But there was never anything major."

"Were any threats ever made against her life?"

"No, never."

"Can you think of anyone who would have wanted her dead?"

"No! Look, I'm sorry Agent Booth, but I really don't know anything else. I've spent eight months thinking about who might have taken her, but I still don't have any idea. I wish I did."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Rivera," Booth said, standing. He extended his right hand. When Rivera also extended his arm, Booth noticed something he had failed to see before. Rivera's arm was plastic—a prosthesis.

Rivera obviously noticed Booth's gaze, for her hastened to explain. "When I was eighteen, I got a bit drunk one night. Some of my friends and I though it would be cool to go down to the swamp to wrestle alligators. I was lucky my arm was the only thing they took."

They stopped next at the house of Lola's parents. A woman in her mid-fifties answered the door. She glanced curiously at the two partners. "Yes?"

"I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan," Booth introduced, showing his badge. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter."

The woman's dark eyes grew wide. "Did you find her?"

"We did," Brennan said.

The woman glanced at the two, noticing their solemn expressions. "She wasn't alive, was she?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

She sighed. "I should have expected as much. Come on in. I really don't know how much I can help you though; I already told the police everything I know."

"Well, maybe you'll remember something else that you forgot about before," Booth said, following her into a small, neat living room. Once they were all seated on the comfortable furniture, Booth asked, "Is your husband home?"

"He's at work right now."

"Where does he work?"

"He manages the hardware store a few blocks from here. Why?"

"I'm just trying to be thorough, ma'am. Do either of you have any enemies?"

"No. We pretty much keep to ourselves."

"What about Lola? Did she have any enemies?"

"No."

Before Booth could ask another question, footsteps behind them announced the arrival of another person. Both Booth and Brennan turned around quickly to see a young man standing in the doorway in a blue onepiece suit that reminded Booth of the protective gear the forensics team wore when gathering evidence from a particularly unpleasant crime scene. He glanced at the two partners, his brow crinkling in puzzlement, before his eyes returned to his mother. "This is Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. They're here about Lola," the older woman explained. To Booth and Brennan, she said, "This is my son, Richie."

"Did you find her?" Richie inquired.

"We did."

"Dead?"

"Yes."

A shadow crossed Richie's face. Booth imagined it was grief; after all, the younger man had just been told that his sister was dead. But as quickly as the emotion had come, it disappeared again, leaving his face impassive. "I've got to go to work," he said shortly, addressing his mother. "I'll be back around 10:00 tonight."

"Where do you work?" Booth asked. Slowly, Richie's head turned so that he was looking directly at the agent.

"The city reclamation plant," he finally said.

"That doesn't sound like the most exciting job in the world."

"It pays." Richie turned to leave, but a question from Booth stopped him.

"Richie, do you know anything about your sister's murder?"

"I have no idea who could do something so horrible," he said, his voice breaking from grief. And with that, he was gone.

They gained no additional information from Lola's mother. Booth seemed slightly frustrated when they once again entered the car. "By all accounts, Lola Rivera seemed to be a girl with no enemies," he said a bit tiredly. "There isn't one person who has a motive for killing her."

"So what do we do now?"

"We go back to DC. I've got the numbers of a couple of her friends. I'm going to call them and see if they paint a different picture of our victim. Meanwhile, you can check with the squint squad and see if they've come up with anything else."

An hour later, Booth entered Brennan's office wearing an expression that told Brennan he had discovered something. "It seems Lola was not as saintly as her family would have us believe," Booth announced. "Both of the friends I talked to mentioned that Lola was not entirely. . . faithful."

"She had an affair?"

"Multiple ones, actually. In the two years she was married, she evidently slept with three different men who weren't her husband."

"Why didn't any of the family members mention this?"

"I doubt that her mother knew about it. I mean, this isn't exactly a good mother-daughter conversation. As for the husband, I suspect that he knew and that's why he killed her." Booth smiled triumphantly.

"He can't have killed her, Booth."

"Bones, I know it isn't always the husband, but in this case, he's the one person with a good motive. I say we bring him in for questioning."

"No, Booth, it wasn't him." Brennan shuffled a couple papers on her desk before finding the pictures she was looking for. She spread them out in front of her, and Booth saw they depicted the cracks in Lola's skull from different angles. "The angle of the wound indicates that it was inflicted from the front," Brennan said, pointing to one of the pictures. "And since it's on Lola's left side, that means the killer would have inflicted it with his left hand. The husband's left arm is a prosthesis. There's no way he could have gripped the murder weapon or hit the victim with sufficient force to inflict this kind of damage."

Booth sighed, knowing she was right. "Fine," he conceded. "Maybe it was one of the boyfriends then. Jealousy doesn't always come from the husband."

"We should talk to them," Brennan said.

Booth shook his head. "I don't have names for any of them. Apparently, Lola only referred to them by code names when she spoke of them with her friends."

"Surely there's a way to figure out who they are. I mean, we can check motel records or try to figure out what men she had significant contact with."

"Actually, right now, we have a meeting with Rebecca and her lawyer."

"Do you still want me to come?"

"Of course, Bones."

When they walked into the large conference room at the office of one of the lawyers Booth knew, they found three of the lawyers already there. Brennan recognized Jenna, a woman who had lived across the hall from her while she was an undergraduate. They had remained in contact over the years, for Jenna was one of the few people who Brennan could relate to. Her parents had died when Jenna was a toddler, and she had also grown up in foster care. Both women were strong, independent, and completely dedicated to their work. Jenna had already become a partner at her firm though she was only thirty-one years old.

Evidently, Jenna knew Frank Gregory, one of the lawyers who Booth had asked to help, and the two were chatting amicably, recalling an old case they had both worked. The third lawyer, another of Booth's friends, was on the phone with somebody. When he saw Booth, he flashed a brilliant smile before hanging up and approaching with his hand out. "Seeley, it's good to see you again." The two men shook hands, and he turned to Brennan. "Kyle Jacobson. You must be the famous Dr. Brennan. I've heard a lot about you from Seeley here." Brennan shook his hand, and he turned back to Booth. "I just got off the phone with Jeff. He's about five minutes away. Where's Rebecca?"

Booth shrugged and glanced at his watch. "It's still a couple minutes before 2:00. She should be here soon."

"Okay. Well, until she comes, we should probably start talking strategy. We need to figure out how we're going to go about this thing. I haven't worked a custody case before, but I've talked to some friends who have, and they say that you need to be well prepared. What else is new?" He walked over to Jenna and Frank who had been joined by Brennan's other friend, Dave Yeaney. Introductions were made, and the six quickly began to discuss possible strategies for the upcoming trial.

The door opened at that moment, and all six looked up to see Rebecca walk in trailed by a man in his early forties. Booth was happy to note that Drew had not accompanied her. He was not sure if he could keep himself from punching the man. When Rebecca saw the group assembled in front of her, she raised her eyebrows. "I was unaware that I was supposed to invite friends to this meeting," she remarked.

"Actually, these are my lawyers, Rebecca," Booth said, introducing each one, including Jeff Stinson who had walked in about thirty seconds after Rebecca.

"Five lawyers?" Rebecca asked. "That seems a bit excessive."

"They're old friends," Booth said simply.

"Well, this is Fred Pratt. He's a friend of Drew's."

"I think the name would be a better fit for him," Booth commented under his breath. Kyle snickered, and Dave looked down to hide a smile.

"So, we're here to discuss the custody of Parker Steven Booth," Fred commented, pulling some papers out of his briefcase. "The first matter of discussion is Mr. Booth's abduction of the child."

"Abduction? He's my son!" Booth shouted.

"Who you removed from his mother's care without her consent," Fred said calmly.

"Mr. Booth was perfectly within his rights," Jeff said. "He believed that his son was in danger and acted accordingly."

"His son was in no danger."

"His son was being abused by his mother's boyfriend, a man she continues to see," Kyle pointed out. "The courts have consistently held that in cases where one custodial parent puts the child in danger, the other custodial parent has a right to remove the child from that danger."

"Parker was not being abused."

"Parker came home with bruises covering his upper torso," Jenna said. "We have pictures of these injuries." She spread the 5x8 color photos across the table in front of her. Booth winced, and his hand found Brennan's beneath the table, gripping her fingers tightly. Rebecca looked away.

"Still, the child needs to see his mother."

"Actually, that is not strictly true," Brennan objected. "Though a mother is traditionally the primary caregiver, recent studies have shown-"

"Bones," Booth said quietly, and she fell silent. Turning to Rebecca and her lawyer, he said, "Rebecca can see Parker once a week for a couple hours. But only when I'm there with him. And only when Drew is not with her."

"Mr. Booth, I don't think you're in the position to be making demands."

"Actually, I think I'm in the perfect position to be doing that." Booth stared at the older man who eventually looked away under the fierceness of Booth's gaze.

"We're still going to need to go over some of the details," Fred said.

For the next hour, they spoke of the upcoming trial, discussing possible options for custody. Booth remained adamant that as long as Rebecca was dating Drew, he wanted full custody. Eventually, she and her lawyer gave up trying to convince him to accept another option, and they finished all the necessary paperwork. Rebecca and her lawyer left as soon as the last signature was in place, their goodbyes terse, barely hiding their anger. When the door closed behind them, Booth turned back to his lawyers. "Guess we're going to court."

Jeff sighed. "To be honest, Seeley, I always expected we would have to. Are you sure you're ready to do this?"

"I have to do this, Jeff."

"Then we'll do it. I think we have a good chance."

"Thanks for doing this. All of you."

"That's what friends are for," Frank told him, clapping a large hand on his shoulder. "Now, I've got to get going. We'll stay in touch. I know a few judges in the area; I think I can get this trial pushed up to the end of January."

"I can help with that if you need," Dave offered.

They all filed out of the office, promising to meet up again soon to go over details. As Booth and Brennan walked back to the car, Brennan's cell phone rang, and she quickly pulled it out of her pocket. "Brennan." She listened to the person on the other end for a minute before thanking him or her and hanging up. As she replaced her phone in her pocket, she continued to stare straight ahead, her eyes vacant.

"Something wrong, Bones?" Booth asked, stopping beside the car and turning to look at her. She did not seem to hear him; instead, she continued to gaze across the parking lot. Booth stepped in front of her, forcing her to focus on him. "Bones," he repeated, louder this time. She blinked as if coming out of a trance.

"That was the real estate agent. The owners accepted our offer on the house."

"That's great, Bones! My apartment's too small anyway. And besides, it'll look good in court if we have a house." He looked at her carefully and noticed that she did not seem to share his enthusiasm. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. It just seems like everything's happening so fast. I mean, in less than a month, we've gone from partners to lovers and now we have Parker and Aaron full time and we're buying a house. . ."

"If you want to slow things down some, just say the word. I mean, we can always look for a house later. You could find a two-bedroom apartment for you and Aaron, and Parker and I could stay at mine."

"No, it's not that the changes are bad. I guess I just never saw myself with a family after my parents left."

"Bones, you've had a family for years now. You have the squints. You have me. Even if it's not exactly traditional, we're family."

"I guess we are," Bones agreed. Booth smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they fought the traffic on the way to the Jeffersonian, it was nearing time to pick up Parker and Aaron. Brennan wanted to continue work on the case, but Booth reminded her that they had other responsibilities. Reluctantly, Brennan agreed to join him to pick up the boys, but she grabbed a stack of paperwork off her desk before they left. On the way to the daycare center, she called the real estate agent and the bank and arranged to fill out the mortgage agreement that day so that they could officially own the house.

By the time they finished up that night, it was nearly 7:00, and Parker was hungry and cranky. Booth suggested that they go out to celebrate their new position as homeowners, and Brennan agreed. Of course, with a four-year-old and a four-month-old, they could not go anywhere fancy, but Booth found a kid-friendly restaurant not too far from the bank, and they enjoyed a nice, relaxing dinner (or relatively relaxing dinner, for Parker decided halfway through that he would rather wear his dinner than eat it.).

Brennan was finishing up the paperwork from her office when Booth came out of Parker's bedroom that night. She anticipated his request, putting her papers aside before he could say anything. Rising to her feet, she walked to Parker's bedroom to kiss him goodnight. As she straightened his sheets around him, Parker asked groggily, "Are you my new Mommy?"

Brennan was a bit taken-aback. She stood silently for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally, she simply said, "No, I'm not."

"Oh. Where is my mommy?"

"She's working through some problems," Brennan said, giving the same excuse she had heard Booth use earlier.

"Does she not love me?"

"Of course she loves you, Parker. And I'm sure you'll be able to see her soon so she can tell you that herself, okay?" Brennan asked, remembering their agreement earlier that day.

"Okay. Night, Dr. Bones. I love you."

"I love you, too, Parker."

Booth dropped Brennan off at the Jeffersonian the following day before heading to the Hoover Building. He returned nearly an hour later carrying two large boxes. They were stacked in front of him, partially obscuring his vision, so he ended up running into the door frame and two tables before Hodgins took pity on him and relieved him of the top one. "What is that?" Brennan questioned as the two men carried the boxes up to the central platform.

"Evidence," Booth explained, pulling a knife from his pocket. He slit the tape on the first box and snapped on a pair of latex gloves before beginning to remove items from it. "Forensics went through her car, but they didn't find anything. No traces of blood in the car or around it."

"That's odd," Brennan said, frowning. "A head wound such as the one she sustained should have bled quite profusely."

"Maybe she was killed somewhere else," Booth suggested. "Hodgins, did you find any dirt or anything that could give us another crime scene."

"First of all, it's not just dirt. And secondly, any particulates on the skull would have been washed away because of the extended time it spent in the ocean."

Booth sighed and looked back at the box in front of him. Slowly, he began to unload the items from it, pausing to examine each one as he pulled it from the box. Most of the items had been collected from the car—a flashlight, a map, a few spare papers, and some other small objects. He also found the note that the husband had mentioned, but it gave no additional clues. Brennan had watched as he pulled out each item, shaking her head. "The murder weapon isn't there," she told him. He nodded and moved on to the other box, but it, too, held nothing of use.

After Booth pulled the last item from the box, he pushed away from the table and began pacing irritably. "We have to be missing something," he said, the side of his hand pressed above the bridge of his nose. "There's got to be some clue somewhere. Something that will lead us to the murderer."

"Didn't you say the victim was having an affair?" Angela asked from behind him.

"Yeah, but I don't have the names of any of her boyfriends," Booth said.

"What about a diary?" Angela suggested.

Booth turned to her, removing his hand from his head so he could see her. "A diary?"

"Most women keep them. And sometimes, we'll write things in them that we won't tell anyone else."

"Good idea, Angela. Come on, Bones, let's go see if we can find a diary." Booth was moving toward the door so quickly that Brennan had to practically jog to keep up with him. She called after him, and he slowed slightly but kept his strides long as they exited the building. Angela watched them go, shaking her head.

"You're welcome," she said to no one in particular.

They stopped first at the office building where the husband worked to obtain his permission to search the house. He immediately agreed to the search, encouraging Booth and Brennan to do whatever was necessary to find his wife's killer. "Still think he did it?" Brennan asked as they walked out of the building with the four-digit code to open the garage door and a possible location of the diary.

"Okay, Bones, you were right. Happy?"

"It is gratifying to know that my initial assessment was correct." Booth simply shook his head.

They found the diary in a box in the back of the bedroom closet, exactly where the husband had speculated it would be. Booth borrowed a latex glove from Brennan and slipped it on before pulling out the thick, leather-bound book. "So, Bones, do you keep a diary?"

"What?"

"A diary. Angela says most women keep a diary. I was just wondering if you had one."

"I'm not most women, Booth."

"I know _that._"

"But I do have a journal."

"Really?" Booth turned from the diary in his hand and focused his full attention on Brennan. "Can I see it?"

"It's personal."

"So? I'm your boyfriend. I can know personal things about you."

"It doesn't matter if we're dating. There are still parts of my life that I want to keep private, and it's my right to do so."

"But Bones-"

"Aren't we supposed to be catching a murderer and not discussing my journal?"

"Fine." Booth looked back to the diary. Opening it, he began flipping through pages. After a couple seconds, he stopped and simply stared at the handwritten page in front of him. Brennan crouched down beside him, leaning closer so that she could read over his shoulder. The page did not seem to contain anything special; it had no mention of the affairs.

"What did you find?" she finally questioned.

"Something's not right here," he said.

Brennan frowned at the page again, still unable to figure out what had alerted his suspicions. "What?"

"Do you think Angela can send us a copy of that note that the victim wrote to her husband telling him she was going to the grocery store?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I just want to test a theory I have." Brennan looked at him curiously as she pulled out her phone and dialed Angela's number, but he offered no other explanation.

When Brennan's phone beeped fifteen minutes later indicating she had a new text message, Booth leaned over with the diary, holding it up next to the scan of the note displayed on the screen of Brennan's phone. As Brennan looked at the two, she suddenly realized what Booth had earlier noticed. "The handwriting's different."

"Uh huh. Our victim didn't write that note."

"Then who did?"

"The killer."

"But why?"

"To get the police to look in the wrong place. If everyone assumed she had gone to run errands, they would check the car and store for evidence but not the house."

"So you're saying she was killed at the house?"

"Exactly. That's why we couldn't find the murder weapon in those boxes; it's probably around here somewhere." Booth pushed himself to his feet and glanced around the room, searching for anything that would fit the description of the murder weapon that Brennan had given him. Brennan wandered out of the room, checking the other parts of the house.

After ten minutes of searching, Booth heard a shout from Brennan. He followed the sound of her voice and found her standing in the living room next to the fireplace. She was holding something in her hands. Walking over, Booth saw that it was a cube, around four inches on each side, that held four different pictures. "It's the right size and shape," Brennan explained, turning the cube carefully in her hand.

"I don't see any blood," Booth observed.

"The killer could have cleaned it. We need to get it back to the lab along with anything else that might be the murder weapon."

"That's not going to be much. I couldn't find anything else which fits the description you gave." Brennan nodded.

"Help me finish searching this room."

When they arrived back at the Jeffersonian, they immediately passed the cube to Hodgins to analyze. He examined it for a moment before saying, "If there is any blood, it's likely stuck under these cracks here." He pointed to a small groove between the glass that covered the pictures and the plastic which formed the edges of the groove. Reaching behind him, Hodgins pulled out a cotton swab and used it to wipe along the edge of the glass. A drop of alcohol followed by phenolphthalein and hydrogen peroxide turned the swab a bright pink. "Well, you do have blood. I don't know if I'll be able to recover enough to do a DNA analysis though." He tilted the cube slightly, trying to increase the amount of light which entered the crack. "Wait. I think there's something else here." His hand groped behind him again, this time closing over a pair of tweezers. Carefully, he inserted the ends into the crack and pulled out a long, thin blue fiber.

"Is that a hair?" Booth questioned.

Hodgins shook his head. "No, it's a synthetic fiber of some kind." He transferred it to a slide and moved over to the microscope. Booth and Brennan both moved with him, and he glanced at them in annoyance. "Could I have some space here, please?"

"Sorry." Both backed up quickly as he pressed his eyes to the eyepiece. "It's definitely synthetic," he said again. "It also seems to be coated in something."

"What?"

"I don't know for sure, but my guess would be polyvinyl chloride, a silicone elastomer, or something similar."

"Which means what?" Booth prompted.

"It's waterproof."

"So our killer was wearing something waterproof?"

"Something blue and waterproof," Hodgins said.

Brennan and Booth both looked at each other, simultaneously realizing who their killer was. "The brother," Booth said. Brennan nodded. "Thanks, Hodgins," Booth said, clapping the other man's shoulder before walking away with Brennan following close on his heels.

They found Richie at work at the city reclamation plant. When he saw them approaching, he immediately turned and began to run in the opposite direction, pushing open the side doors and sprinting outside. Booth cursed before following him, his shoes slipping on the slightly damp floor of the plant. Somehow, he managed to keep his footing and reached the doors to find Richie scrambling up a metal ladder that led onto the roof of the next building. Springing over, he grabbed Richie around the waist and wrestled him off the ladder, pressing the younger man against the wall of the building. "Richie Diante, you are under arrest for the murder of Lola Rivera," Booth said, pulling his handcuffs out of his pocket and fastening them securely on Richie's wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you." With the handcuffs now on Richie's wrists, Booth pulled him from the wall and pushed him forward.

Two hours later, Booth sat in an interrogation room with Richie who had waved his right to a lawyer. "Why'd you do it, Richie?" Booth asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Richie responded, staring sullenly ahead, his arms crossed defiantly across his chest.

Booth leaned forward, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Why did you kill your sister?"

"I didn't," Richie answered evenly.

"They're dusting the murder weapon for prints now. I have a feeling they're going to be a match for yours."

"So? I was over at her house all the time; I could have easily touched that picture cube at some other time." Booth smiled in satisfaction as Richie realized his mistake and tried to cover quickly. "Or whatever the murder weapon was."

Booth straightened up again, sitting back in his chair as he studied Richie carefully. "You're just digging yourself in deeper, Richie. You might as well confess now and save the DA and I a whole lot of trouble."

The interrogation room was deathly quiet for a moment. Booth could tell Richie was considering his options, and he waited patiently, still watching the younger man closely. Richie no longer seemed as cool and composed as he had been when Booth first brought him into the interrogation room. His dark eyes were alight with fear, and teeth chewed the inside of his lip nervously. Finally, he spoke. "I didn't mean to kill her. I just wanted to scare her, to show her how wrong she was to keep sleeping with those other men. I mean, I didn't like Carlos at all, but he was still her husband. The Bible clearly says that you shouldn't commit adultery, but she didn't seem to care at all. When I explained how wrong her actions were and how it was going to bring shame to our family, do you know what she did? She laughed! She just stood there and laughed at me like it was nothing."

"So you got angry?"

"Of course I got angry. She was mocking God's word. She tried to tell me that it really didn't matter what the Bible said, that it was outdated, and that I should learn to live in the twenty-first century. I wasn't really thinking so clearly because I was so angry so I just grabbed the nearest thing I could—the picture cube—and hit her with it. She collapsed to the floor, and I just stood there in shock for a couple minutes. But then I realized that Carlos would be home, and I needed to clean up. So I drug the body out to her car and used some bleach from the bathroom to clean up all the blood. Then I wrote the note about the grocery store so Carlos wouldn't be suspicious for awhile, and I drove the body to the ocean and dumped it. I left the car in the parking lot outside the grocery store so people would just assume she was kidnapped from the parking lot there." He looked up at Booth, and Booth could see true remorse in his eyes. His tough exterior had completely crumbled; his lip was now trembling as he attempted to suppress his sobs. "I didn't mean to kill her. I really didn't. It just happened."

Booth joined Brennan in her office an hour and a half later after turning Rivera over to the District Attorney. He found her typing something on her computer as she bounced Aaron on her lap. Immediately, Booth realized they were one person short. "Where's Parker?" he asked, whirling around as if hoping to discover Parker hiding in a dark corner of the room.

"He's downstairs with Dr. Lerner. He wanted to see the dinosaurs again, and Dr. Lerner offered to let him help clean some more of the bones, so I left him down there. He seems to really be enjoying himself."

Booth relaxed visibly. Walking across the room, he perched on the edge of Brennan's desk. "We got a confession from Richie," he told her.

"That's nice." Brennan was staring at something on the screen, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed tightly together. She had stopped bouncing Aaron, and he gave a whine of protest which Brennan did not notice because of her intense concentration. Leaning over, Booth lifted the baby into his arms, lifting him over his head as he made airplane noises.

"Bones, what do you say we go get Parker and go home for some dinner," Booth suggested. Brennan, however, did not look up. "Bones. Earth to Bones." Booth waved a hand in front of her face, and she finally blinked and looked up at him.

"Huh?"

"I said let's get Parker and go home."

"I still have work to do."

Booth stopped her protests by pressing the button to turn the computer monitor off. "Work can wait. Let's go."

"Give me ten minutes," Brennan compromised.

"Fine. I'll go pick up Parker and come back."

Later that night, Booth and Brennan were sitting together on the couch. Brennan was working on her laptop, and Booth had a case file open on his lap though he had not actually read any of the information it contained. "Christmas is two weeks from today," Booth pointed out, breaking the silence which had fallen over them twenty minutes before. "And Parker's birthday is two days before that."

"So?" Brennan asked.

"So we need to go shopping for presents."

Brennan finally turned to face him. "Now?" she asked, confusion etched in her face.

Booth laughed. "No, not now, Bones. I was thinking tomorrow."

"What about the boys?"

"We can take Aaron with us; he's too young to realize what we're doing anyway. And I figured Parker can stay with Angela."

"What if she's not available tomorrow?"

"I already cleared it with her. She wants to paint a mural in Parker's new room anyway as his birthday gift; this way, he's there to tell her what he wants."

"Okay," Brennan agreed, turning back to her laptop. Booth watched her for a couple minutes until she turned around, sensing his stare. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking that this is what family's all about. Relaxing at home on a Friday night after a long week at work, planning on buying Christmas presents and painting murals in our new house. It's nice."

"Whatever."

"Come on, Bones, you have to admit that you'd much rather be here than sitting at work identifying another thousand-year-old corpse."

Brennan was about to contradict his statement when she realized with a jolt that he was correct. It _was _nice to be sitting on the couch with him on a Friday night listening to Aaron's steady breathing coming from the crib across the room and seeing the small slit of light down the hall that came from the nightlight in Parker's room. Brennan had avoided family for much of her life, but now that she had a family, she found herself enjoying the experience. "I guess it is nice," she finally admitted.

Booth grinned. "I can think of some ways to make tonight even nicer," he said.

"What?"

Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his, reaching out to close the lid of her laptop. "Come on, Bones, let's enjoy Friday night," he mumbled against her lips. Wordlessly, she followed him to the bedroom.


End file.
